Conscience
by Bewildered Muse
Summary: This is my JK fic, they're sleeping together but it's no more than that, will they overcome their differences? [Snort] Not likely. [Updated sporadically and currently being revised]
1. Prologue

_Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of these characters. They belong to Tamora Pierce and I'd never dream of stealing them…other than to write faintly kinky fanfiction about them…_

Conscience

The room was shrouded in darkness, the only light radiating from a single candle, placed on a desk. It was obviously a small room, with the furniture carefully arranged to make it look bigger, that's what made it so obvious. It was sparsely furnished, perhaps that was another trick to make the room look large: a chest of drawers, a desk and chair, a comfortable armchair near the fire, and, most important of all, a bed. The light illuminated two people, wrapped round each other like a glove on a hand. In the dim glow, an onlooker would probably only just be able to make out hair colour. One definitely had pale blond hair and the other was a brunette. Anyone watching would think that they stared ardently at each other, but it's funny how deceptive light can be.

The man ran a hand up her side and slid it very slowly over her shoulder, towards her neck and face. Her hand shot again and captured his. Smiling slightly, she raised an eyebrow questioningly, was he eager to play again? She was glad she wasn't the only one, but she'd be damned if he found out yet, she smirked, '_No, I'll have him begging for it__ first._'

 They knew it made no sense, that this frenzied lust wasn't right- but they couldn't stop. He hated her, it was as simple as that. He hated her with a passion which burned so intensely he sometimes feared there would be nothing left, it drove him to the brink of insanity and as his hands played across her skin, he almost tumbled head first into lunacy. 

She despised him, loathed him, wanted nothing more than to watch him suffer and yet she couldn't keep her hands off him, perhaps in some twisted way, she was watching him suffer, but she hadn't meant to come along for the ride. She was unsure what pushed her to this, perhaps it was instinct, a pure animal instinct, which told her to devour him whole and have no regrets. 

_You know, you've got a willing slave_

During the day, she allowed her mind to rule, it told her to stop doing this, to rid herself of this twisted pleasure but when the night arrived again, her usurper body would take control and all logic was smothered under her desire.

His hands danced across her stomach, sending thrills up her spine, each ripple of desire seared her soul, driving her mad. She bit her lip to keep from groaning, he couldn't have the satisfaction of seeing her pleasure. He glanced up at her sharp intake of breath and saw how rumpled she was, her lips swollen, her eyes so darkened with lust that he couldn't recognise them. He showered her face with hot kisses which she returned fervently.

_And you just love to play the thought, that you might misbehave…_

She pressed herself close to him, he surrounded her, he intoxicated her mind 'til coherent thought was a myth, she drowned in his very essence and there was nobody to pull her out. She was drunk on his clean, sweet scent, it disgusted her. How could somebody who was so foul a person be so physically perfect? The fiery hatred that smouldered in her mind snapped and broke loose. It was conveyed in her actions, and, taking both her hands, she slammed him into the mattress, one leg on either side of his body. She lent down and licked a drop of sweat off his nose, gently working her way down, kissing his cheeks, jaw and neck. He reacted strongly and it became violent, intense, passionate. She loved every minute of it.

There was no love involved but somehow self control was nonexistent. It was sex. That was all. There was no law saying loving someone was essential when sleeping with them. It's funny how two people who hate each other can find no better match.

And it's funny that something as simple as a single candle burning defiantly in a dark room can be strangely symbolic.

_AN: This is the rewritten version of Conscience, most of the chapters are being completely redone and will be up in the next few weeks. If people would like the old version, please feel free to email me and I'll send it to you. The lyrics sadly don't belong to me, but to Joss Whedon, creator of BtVS. Heh, this version has turned out kinda kinky, but I like it._

_Thanks to Sara (punkpixie87) for unofficially beta-ing this for me._

_Your thoughts, feelings, flames and constructive criticism are welcomed._

_Until next time!_

_Adrienne_


	2. The Joy of Violent Movement

Conscience

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting its light on a young woman. She was staring blankly up at the ceiling, absently biting her lip as she deliberated over what was happening to her. Everything had been so simple when she had merely been the famous lady squire. All that was required of her was to train as hard as possible and prove the conservatives wrong. Perhaps it wasn't an easy task, but it was simple none the less. People saw her as standing for truth, freedom and justice, some amazing hero who would save the world. Pure and kind and righteous and fair and Mithros knows what else. A bitter half smile graced her lips,  '_And__ by bedding one of the conservatives I'm really showing them how I'm no jumped-up merchant slut.'_

Kel shifted slightly so she could look over her shoulder, he'd already disappeared. A slight imprint where he had been sleeping just hours beforehand was still present. It must have been his leaving that had awoken her those few hours ago, although she had no memory of him departing. Wearily, she throw off her sheets and sat on the edge of the bed, her head in her hands. Some part of her wanted to cry, this had been going on for two months and she still could not find a way to make things better. All the time she felt like she was lying to her friends, she experienced the sensation of being dirty and nothing she did could make her clean. '_You could stop seeing him._' She brushed the thought aside, it was too late for that, somehow she'd become so entangled with him that all hope of salvation seemed lost. She was addicted to him, addicted to the way he made adrenaline pump through her body and made her ride on a wave of wild emotion.

She rubbed her eyes resignedly and rose fully from the bed. She pulled on her clothes and wandered over to her window. It seemed that it was later in the day than her normal rising, and the sparrows peeped expectantly. She waved the sparrows in, and they flew directly to the small dishes brought by the servants. She stared out the window, and wondered how this mess had started.

~~~

"Happy birthday, Kel! Aren't you going to let us in? Aww, c'mon, we've brought gifts…. We don't care if you're not decent, in fact it's quite an intrig- ow! Cleon, I was only joking, you didn't need to hit me so hard. Please, Kel! Cleon's going to maul me to death if you don't let us in…what do you mean you don't care, I'm hurt Kel! Don't you care for your dearest friend…. Hey! I heard that, Keladry; and don't smirk, it's not nice…and don't stick your tongue out either. I don't need to be in the same room as you to tell what you're doing. Look, let's put it this way, if you ever want to see the presents you're going to have to let us in." The door swung open, and Kel appeared before the small crowd of boys, clad in breeches and shirt, a tunic in one hand and the other braced her against the door as she laughed.

"Happy birthday, Kel!"  Chorused the group of squires as they gathered round Kel's open door. Smiling broadly she stood to one side.

"You'd better come in then. I'd hate all those wonderful presents to go to waste. And Cleon, don't hit Neal anymore, he was only jesting…or at least, I hope he was jesting." A minor stampede ensued as the squires poured into her room and arranged themselves on various pieces of furniture. Nearly all her friends were present, each bearing a gift of some sort for her. She smiled at her comrades and hugged each one in turn. As she made her way round the room, she took each present, unwrapped it and remarked on it before placing it neatly to one side.

            When she got to Neal she paused, "Neal…why have you bought me a _muzzle?" His smile widened._

            "It's for Peachblossom, so that he'll stop biting me." Kel gave him an accusatory look. "What!? It _hurts_being bitten by that thing and he appears to have a fondness for Neal flesh and with bits of Neal shirt for a side dish." There was a silence in the room, everybody watched as Kel fought back a smile, Neal's simply grew wider with every passing second. "Alright, so maybe that's not what I've actually bought you, but I think it's a good idea." With a affectionate ruffle of her hair, Neal passed over a small box. Kel tentatively opened the lid, and peered inside. Facing her was a small silver griffin, with two small tiger eye stones for its eyes. She stroked it gently with one finger, and the silver glinted in the light. "It's a charmed pendant. The lady I bought it from was very vague about what it was charmed _with_, but Numair checked it out and promised it wasn't cursed." He looked at her uncertainly, searching her eyes to find her opinion. The grin that brightened her face and set her eyes sparkling was enough reassurance for him. 

            She showered her friends with thanks and gratitude once more, before a lively conversation began, in which everybody talked over everyone else. "So, how are you and the giant getting along?" Drawled Neal, indicating Cleon. "He hasn't drowned you in pet names yet?" Kel rolled her eyes.

            "Shut up, Meathead, before I muzzle you." Neal winced.

            "Maybe the muzzle was a bad present." He watched as Kel's eyes sparked mischievously. "Yes, definitely a bad present." Thankfully, for Neal, the bell rang for breakfast. Every squire, excluding Kel, jumped instantly to their feet.

            There was a single, unified cry of, "FOOD!"  before they hurried towards the mess hall. Kel followed more slowly, taking the time to shut and lock her door. She watched in amusement as the boys raced towards the hall, elbowing each other in their haste. "Something funny, Lump?" Kel looked in disgust at the blond squire who was eyeing her distastefully.

            "Excuse me, I've got to leave, before the sight of you turns my stomach."  She spun on her heel and strode off down the hallway, without looking back. When she reached the mess hall, the usual sight of the boys fighting over who was where in the line greeted her. She wandered over to them, sliding clear of Merrik and Owen, who had picked up the supplied bread and where sword fighting, edged neatly past Seaver and Cleon who were elbowing each other in a bid to get to the food first and slipped in behind Neal.  "Well, that's my exercise for the morning." Neal smiled loftily,

"I, of course, am far above the other boys and have no time for such foolishness."

"Oh, get over yourself Neal. We all know that you just run faster." Neal gave her a look of mock hurt. "Oh, Squire Keladry, how you have wounded me!" He clutched his heart dramatically and keeled over. Kel nudged him with a foot and groaning he rose, brushing himself down. Grinning he handed her a tray and still bickering, they walked over to their usual table. The others joined them soon afterwards and Kel spent a full five minutes trying to brush the bread crumbs out of Owen's hair and lecturing them on maturity. 

            The volume at the table gradually rose as the meal progressed and soon it was hard to actually hear what people were saying. The only person Kel could discern from the din was Neal, who had decided talking in as loudly as possible so that everybody could hear him was a good idea. He appeared to be keeping up lively banter with Cleon,  "I'm clearly the better poet, my poetry is so superb that it stuns girls and leaves them wide eyed in amazement." There was a definite snort from Cleon.

            "More like leaves them dead." Neal shot Cleon a glare and sniffed disdainfully.

            "I won't argue anymore, I'm simply above all that childishness."

            "Alright…if you're the better poet, prove it."

            "What?"

            "You heard me, prove that you're a better poet, make up a poem right this instant which stuns everybody into awed silence and I'll believe you're better." Neal mulled over the thought briefly. A wicked grin lit his face.

            "You're on." Standing up on the bench, he faced his friends. 

_ "An ode to Kel's eyelashes, her eyebrows and her nose_

_But let's not forget her rosy cheeks and dainty little toes_

_Her face is stern, her head held high, her posture is superb_

_She loves all things which have a pulse:  dog, griffin and small bird_

_Her eyes are gems, so rare to find! A look which shows no thoughts_

_And if she keeps glaring like that, this poem I'll abort_

_And now she waves that gift I gave  to her upon this morn_

_The choice is yours, my dearest friends, for I myself am torn_

_Do I let her muzzle me, and treat me like a horse?_

_Shall I let her tackle me and take me down by force?_

_Is it wise to leave her be and stop this little song?_

_And bow my head and look ashamed and claim that I was wrong-_

_To start this little poem which I've thought up on the spot_

_Which leaves her looking flushed and red and really rather hot_

_Please, Cleon, leave me be my friend, you've get the wrong idea!_

_For in me there's no lust for Kel, I thought it rather clear._

_That any rhyme I come upon is snatched up on the dot._

_So I can carry on my ode though most wished it would rot._

_This song as veered so far away from where it first began,_

_For it was for my friend that I stood up and sang_

_So give a cheer for our dear friend, that fearsome girl named Kel!_

_Who's looking rather dangerous, I think I'd better yell!"_

There was a stunned silence. Neal was just about to turn to Cleon triumphantly when somebody shouted out. "That was awful, Queenscove. Get him!" Kel needed no further urging, she handed Owen the muzzle and watched with amusement as Owen tackled Neal and attempted to put the contraption on him. Eventually they collapsed on the benches and picked up their utensils to continue breakfast. Neal sniffed, "Philistines." Kel patted him sympathetically on the back. 

"Cleon! Neal! Will you _please stop fighting each other with sticks? You're supposed to be mature adults." The three of them were in a glade they'd find in the Royal Forest. Kel lay with her face to the sun, watching her friends through half closed eyes. The two male squires had acquired sticks and were fighting "to the death." Using six years of training they danced about the clearing exchanging blows. Each time the sticks met there was a loud 'thwap' which disturbed Kel from her meditative state. It was difficult to tell who was winning, probably Neal although perhaps she only thought that because he was grinning like a maniac, which gave him an air of confidence although maybe that was insanity…but that was a minor detail. "Fine, whoever wins has to fight against me." There was a drawn out pause in the fight before both sticks were hastily dropped and the two boys apologised profusely and grovelled at her feet. Kel looked mischievous before sitting up regally and daintily holding out one hand. "We will forgive the commoners this once, if any more disturbances are caused we shall call the guards and throw you in with the pigs. You may kiss the royal hand." The two boys kissed her hand, Kel forgave them both and allowed them to sit with her. The conversation ranged over plenty of different topics. One of which led to Neal spouting more poetry, which almost got him muzzled again, he darted out of reach just in time and was still lounging, if you can lounge, in the tree he'd climbed to escape them. Kel and Cleon got caught up in a battle of  endearments. They'd been coming up with the most sickening nicknames possible and throwing them at each other. As the minutes rolled by, thinking became harder as they laughed more forcefully at each new name. 'Sweet innocent angel who holds the light which sets my heart on fire? Honestly Cleon, it makes me sound like heart burn." It was getting harder to breath as they conjured up the worst names from their imagination. It was when Cleon started a lengthy comparison between her and a clam that she gave way completely to her mirth. Neal's voice floated over from his tree, "Clammy goodness?" He sounded incredulous. "I mean, that whole comparison was appalling but 'clammy goodness' qualifies for worst compliment in the Mortal Realms." _

            Cleon tried to protest, but even he couldn't quite defend a line like 'clammy goodness'. They could hear the palace bell ring faintly in the distance. Neal crouched on his branch and jumped to the ground, it had meant to be nimble and graceful…but somehow his foot got caught round a branch and he fell to the floor with a crash. He stood up quickly, brushing off the dirt and pulling leaves from his hair. He attempted to look dignified and stalked over to the others, ignoring the sniggers emanating from behind their covered mouths. "Father said he wanted to talk to me earlier. I'll be seeing you both tomorrow. Until then, farewell and may the gods watch over your souls." He bowed dramatically and swept out of the clearing. There was a loud noise as he tripped over a fallen branch and hit the ground for a second time. Neal quickened his pace to escape the reverberating sound of his friends laughter.

There was a brief silence after Neal had left. Kel smiled absently at Cleon, "So, it's just us now…." Cleon shifted so that he was closer, he gently slipped an arm around her waist.

"Exactly…it's the perfect time to give you the treat I had planned."

"Treat? What treat would that b-" He silenced her with his lips on hers. They broke apart.

"Oh. That kind of treat." She looked solemn. "I think, for being so kind and thoughtful, that you deserve a treat as well." Grinning, Cleon drew her closer and pressed his mouth to hers. The feeling of being kissed was still a novelty to Kel and the way warmth spread through her veins like honey was very appealing. However, she was slightly confused and worry was beginning to gnaw at her mind, Cleon seemed so much more _serious_ than she did. He was like a loyal dog, in the beginning you'd spend every spare moment with them and think that they were the best thing you'd ever encountered, like a dog, he was someone who would follow her blindly and be a steadfast friend, but he was fading to the background, he didn't seem to make her dizzy with emotions like those few months before. Shutting her mind to such thoughts and closing her eyes, Kel pulled him even closer.

It was getting late, and Kel was heading back to her rooms. She'd just bid Cleon goodnight and was strolling back through the corridors to her own room. She was comfortable in the knowledge that Raoul had gone for several weeks and she needn't worry about waking him up. He'd been irritated that there was no way he could stay for her birthday, but duty came first in his line of work and this was apparently a very serious matter. As she wandered down the last corridor to her room and voice drifted over to her. "Sixteen, Mindelan? My, aren't _you _a big girl." Kel glanced to her side, as usual her face devoid of expression and she casually took in the speaker's countenance. He was leaning languidly against the wall, hair glinting gold in the light, eyes observing her coolly. He was like some untouchable ice statue, achingly beautiful and painfully cold. Sometimes she wished somebody would scorch him, if they did, she guaranteed she'd be the first to come and watch him burn.

            "Joren." Her tone of voice was weary. "What do you want now?" She'd been out all day with various friends and now all she wanted was to go back to her room, curl up with a decent book and enjoy the rest of her evening. She could almost see her plans fly out a window as Joren sneered and took a step closer.

            "Plenty of things, but I doubt you're qualified to fulfil any of them, even the most…basic ones." His raised eyebrows and suggestive tone of voice made it quite clear what "basic" things he wanted.

            "Of course I'm not." Her tone was conversational as she looked him calmly in the eye. "I'd have to be a man to fulfil _your_ basic needs. However, now I come to think of it, you do make exceptions although I'm _still_ trying to work out what you saw in Garvey." Joren's eyes snapped with icy fury and he moved towards her angrily. She deliberately ignored him and continued to her room. Before she could open the door, somebody slammed her into it. "Give it up Joren." She snapped, wincing at the bump she'd received.

            She turned to glare at her captor and was surprised to find him so near that their noses almost touched. Her breath hitched in her throat, it didn't matter that he was a bastard, he was extremely attractive and currently extremely close. The seconds lengthened and the tension mounted. Joren reached up with a hand, forcing her to look at him. "I'm not gay." Kel smiled condescendingly and patted his cheek.

            "Of course not. Now, if you keep telling yourself that it might one day come true, if you're very, _very_ lucky."

            "Shut it you jumped up whore."

            "Bite me!" He did. Kel gasped. Well, she hadn't expected him to take it literally. Her feelings of surprise and horror rose as he nipped at her neck again, running his mouth expertly over her smooth skin.  Before she could collect her scattered thoughts and voice her vehement protests his lips were crushing her own. The dizzying feeling she hadn't felt for months returned in full force. She was kissing him heatedly, opening her mouth to deepen the kiss, her hand slipped from its position on his chest somewhere during those long muddled minutes and the door swung open. They tumbled through, landing heavily on the floor in a tangle of limbs.  Somehow, in this mess there lips made contact again and they kissed repeatedly. Showering each other with fiery kisses was screwing up her thought process, she could barely think straight but somehow a stray thought managed to get through, '_Cleon never kissed me like this._' She moved to push him away, but it was then that he undid her shirt and suddenly his hands were touching her bare skin, it shattered all her resistance and she succumbed to his ministrations. Her mind broke loose; caught in an ocean of pleasure it was swept away. Kel kicked the door shut with a foot before dragging Joren over towards the bed, shedding clothing as they went. Collapsing onto the bed, Kel smiled wickedly and allowed him to press her into the bed, her hair spread out on the pillow and across her face. She glanced once more at the closed door, before returning her attention to Joren, reassured that nobody could watch her fall from her pedestal.

_A/N: Yay! Second chapter rewritten. Sorry that Neal's ode was so bad, it was very late when I wrote it. Er…horse muzzles DO exist but I doubt you can actually put one on a person. Heh, I have a weird characterisation__ of Neal, and the interaction between Cleon and Neal is a bit strange. I apologise for any mistakes and promise that the next rewritten chapters will be up soon. _

_Thoughts, feelings, flames and constructive criticism are always welcome._

_Until next time!_

_Adrienne_


	3. Crossed Wires

Conscience

            Kel splashed water onto her face, she watched as the droplets trickling down her cheeks fell into the basin again, making small ripples across its clear surface. She forced herself to stop glancing back at the bed. '_It's not like he's even here anymore_'. A warm breeze swirled round her room, frowning, she turned round and looked for the source of this wind. It was coming from the window that she had left open, she blinked in surprise, she'd been so deep in her own thoughts that she hadn't realised she'd left it wide open. The young woman cursed and moved to shut the window. This was a typical example of how much Joren was affecting her. Whenever he was near she became so involved with him that the rest of the world disappeared. Now it seemed that even when she just _thought_ of him everything faded into insignificance and he became her reality. She gave a hollow chuckle. If somebody was listening to her thoughts they would accuse her of being in love.

            '_But love doesn't make you want to break down and cry, love doesn't make you feel dirty or used, love doesn't hurt so much that you want to curl up and die; most of all, love doesn't make you want to wring the bastard's filthy neck and beat him into a bloody pulp.' Joren made her burn, every time she saw him she could feel the heat rising inside, but the feelings she felt when she saw him weren't pleasant or beautiful. They were ugly, dark emotions which she hadn't believed she was capable of feeling. These sentiments were disturbing her and the only comfort she could take from them was that she wasn't in love._

            Something was still irking her though. During these two months, despite the fact Kel had been with Joren most nights, she still didn't know why he'd started this whole thing. She'd asked him, just once, that first night. He'd looked at her with an unreadable expression, the moonlight casting an eerie light across his face. She'd held her breath as he leant in close. He kissed her left cheek, "Some things," he kissed her right cheek, "are not," he kissed her nose, "for little," he kissed her mouth, "girls," he kissed her again, "to know." This time he deepened his kiss, roughly pulling her closer again. Kel growled. She'd show him what little girls could do….

            A knock at her door brought her sharply back to reality. She was ashamed to find her breath had become slightly laboured just by remembering something. Why did he have such a hold over her? She mental shook herself before walking over to her door. "Who is it?" A muffled reply came from the other side of the door.

"It's Neal-"

"-and Cleon!"

"I was about to _say_ that, Cleon, couldn't you've waited one second?"

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't have said it right!" Kel opened the door and ushered them in.

"Honestly, you two, can't you stop bickering for five minutes?" They shouted a reply, but she didn't hear it, she'd caught sight of the blond squire from her thoughts, lounging casually against the wall further down the hall. He caught her eye and shot her a smirk which spoke volumes. A shiver rolled down her spine before she could suppress it, frustrated at her body's reaction, she childishly ignored Joren and shut the door without looking him in the eye. She turned round to look at her friends, "Now, what can I do for you two…"

"…lumbering idiots! Barging in like that, do you have a death wish?  I could've been wielding a _sword_ for all you know. I'd have mowed you down before either of you could blink. Doors are there to be _knocked_ on, don't just ignore them. If you do that again I'll personally find my sword, ram it through your stomach and _twist_ it just to hear your screams. Do I make myself clear?"

            "Crystal." 

            "Sorry, Joren."

Both Vinson and Garvey shuffled slightly and stared at their feet. All they'd wanted to do was tell Joren their news, but apparently the family members of Stone Mountain hated the doors to their room bursting open when practising with a staff. Garvey rubbed at the bruise which was forming where Joren had whacked him with his staff. It had been an accident, they'd caught him off-guard and he hadn't had time to react, or at least, Garvey _hoped_ it was an accident. Joren glared at them both for good measure and placed his staff to one side. "Now, what is it that you wanted to tell me?" Garvey brightened.

            "It's about Lady Rhiannon, you know, the one with the long black hair and red pouty lips?" Garvey launched into a very long, boring description of how her fiancé had run off with some servant girl. Joren's eyes glazed over with boredom. Garvey had never seemed to realise that he had no interest in court gossip and avoided it at all costs…unless it was information that would sully Keladry of Mindelan's reputation, if that were the case the unsuspecting informer would feel the full force of the Stone Mountain charm.

            His wandering mind conjured up an image of the girl who had been haunting his dreams for the past month. It seemed strange that these dreams mostly occurred when she was right there next to him, weren't dreams supposed to _stop_ once you achieved what was in them? His appeared to have _started_ when he'd initiated this…could he really call it a relationship? They were always dreams about sex and every time he awoke from one he'd have this insatiable thirst for _her_. That was generally what he called her, fearing that saying her real name would somehow commit him. The last thing he wanted was to be committed to a useless, weak _wench_ like her. 

            He wondered what this 'relationship' meant to her. She'd shown no signs of wanting more or any change in sentiment towards him. She obviously still loathed the very sight of him, which was something that still baffled him. How could she let him _own_ her the way she did when she felt nothing short of murderous towards him? He supposed the same question could be applied to him, although he refused to believe that she had any hold over him. He'd seen her briefly a few minutes ago in the corridor, inviting those idiot friends of hers in. The Lump had ignored him, but he'd noticed how her eyes searched for his when she'd caught sight of him. The hunger in them was so intense that he'd been faintly surprised she hadn't swallowed him whole.

            Joren mentally shook himself and focused on reality again. Garvey was still talking and Vinson appeared to have fallen into a stupor, not surprising really since Garvey could have bored for Tortall. It was something about the monotone and the drivel combined which did it, it just made _everybody_ bored, nobody could withstand it, not even the sturdiest of knights. "…so anyway, it was at that point I decided drastic action was needed. I broke into her room, stole her corset, slashed it to ribbons and then returned it to her anonymously, she's been wandering round like a terrified rabbit ever since. Easy prey." Joren took several seconds to register exactly what Garvey had just said.

            "You did _what_? I can't believe…."

            "…that you're going away. When was this all decided?" Kel questioned Cleon, her face carefully blank but her shoulders slumped slightly. He offered her an apologetic smile. His grey eyes silently pleading for her to understand, he'd never thought she'd react quite so vehemently.

            "It's the King's orders, things are beginning to stir up on the Scanran front and who knows what could begin happening. They need all the support they can get so Inness has been packed off up there, which means I go too." Kel rubbed her face wearily and nodded. The thought of Cleon leaving was a bleak one, she loved his company and the way he treat her; it also meant her barrier against Joren was completely gone, no doubt he'd start prowling around more often now Cleon was disappearing. The young man held out his arms to Kel and she accepted his warm, comforting embrace.

            Neal was hunched up in Kel's chair, avidly reading one of her books. His eyes darted quickly down the page, devouring each word before flicking to the next. The world had blurred to an annoying background murmur and he'd successfully missed the whole conversation between the two other occupants of the room. Completely unaware of the slightly gloomy air in the room, Neal looked at Kel and smiled eagerly. "This is an unbelievable book. I haven't been this involved with one since_ 'Famous Healers of the Known Realms and Where to Find Them'.  _Idoubt you've read that and I doubt you've read this little gem either, so…could I perhaps borrow it?" Kel rolled her eyes and her expression was clearly a 'You're-so-completely-hopeless' one.

"Of course you can borrow the book, Neal. I'm not likely to read it anytime soon, I'm always so busy recently." Neal grinned and thanked her before returning to the book. 

Cleon looked regretfully at Kel and then towards the door. "I suppose I should be going now…." He trailed off uncomfortably. Kel nodded firmly and opened the door. Cleon moved swiftly towards it, but paused when he reached Kel again. Raising a shaking hand to her face, he pulled her in for a last, lingering kiss. Kel bent into his touch, craving it; before she could get any satisfaction he'd pulled away. With a last glance, Cleon strode off down the corridor. Kel shut the door and slithered slowly to the ground.

Neal watched his friend worriedly, she didn't often express emotion. He rolled out of the chair and crawled over to his friend; affectionately he put an arm round her. Squire Nealan was known for his uncanny ability to fall in and out of love with every pretty girl he clamped eyes on, but he was proud to admit that he loved this girl beyond all others. She was like a little sister who he would always have time for, the comrade in arms who would cover his back in battle and the friend who would always make him feel comfortable. He hugged her tightly and she returned it fiercely. They staying in this position for awhile, occasionally the silence was broken by Neal making a comforting remark or sometimes a sarcastic comment when he felt he was getting too sappy; she seemed to understand though and as time wore on she grew calmer.

Eventually she pulled away and smiled gratefully. "Thank you, Neal." He stood and ruffled her hair, nudging her with his foot to get her to move. Opening the door, he dramatically bowed his way out. "Any time, any place, any reason, I'll be…"  

  "…seeing you later, much later. Also, Garvey? Please don't do anything too stupid." Shutting the door behind his 'friends', Joren turned round and surveyed his room, the light was dimming outside and shadows were lurking in the corners of the room. He lit a candle or two to alleviate the growing darkness before settling down with his book. Nobody really saw Joren of Stone Mountain as a scholar, and he wasn't really. However, he was determined to be an exceptional knight and if that meant reading a large tome on ancient battles then he'd do it. He sneezed. The dust from the pages swirled in small spirals in the air and irritated his nose. The musty smell was not unpleasant but it reminded him of age; something he'd always been afraid of and so he'd found himself disliking the book before he'd even opened it for the first time. He allowed his eyes to lazily skim down the page and repeatedly stifled yawns. This wasn't the most thrilling book he'd ever read, in fact it was so full of archaic, over flowery sentences that it was sometimes hard to pick out the point of a paragraph. "And 'lo! Before the great armies of the East was a chance for victory. Bravely they sallied forth into the valley in which their enemies prospered on the ruin of simple village folk. A mighty cry was raised as the cavalry charged and their swords glinted in the sunlight, an unearthly glow which showed that even the Gods were on the side of the Easterners, who had strived to protect all they believed in." Joren threw the book to the floor in disgust, that was the last time he'd ever follow up a book recommendation from Sir Gareth.

He turned his head abruptly at the sound of voices in the corridor. He moved quietly to his door and gently pressed an ear to it. Both voices sounded male and neither sounded happy. The quiet murmur of their voices gradually faded away as the speakers wandered further along the corridor. It had been Kennan and Queenscove, talking about _her_ and something about Kennan going away. Joren moved to put a hand on the door knob, but hesitated, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. One brief glance at the abandoned tome made any thought of reading all night vanish from his mind and he hastily left the room. Once outside in the castle, he paused, unsure whether or not to follow the two squires. An absent glance in the opposite direction made him think again, she could probably tell him everything…when the right kind of pressure was applied. He grinned wickedly and strode off down the corridor. The blond knocked confidently on the wood. The door opened a crack and a pair of hazel eyes eyed him warily. An insolent smirk graced his lips. "Miss me?" 

_A/N: Hurray! Another chapter rewritten._ _I have a feeling that I've repeated a lot of what has happened in the last two chapters but I promise there are some slightly different scenes in the next chapter (which is almost done). Not a lot to say about this chapter, other than Kel has a very idealistic view of love and many people would beg to differ about her idea of love. Sorry for mistakes._

_Thoughts, feelings, flames and constructive criticism are always welcome._

_Until next time!_

_Adrienne_


	4. Unwanted Meetings

Conscience

Jonathan of Conté rubbed his temples wearily. It was nine in the morning and he'd already been to two meetings, now Raoul had called for this third meeting and Jon was ready to collapse. It hadn't helped that he'd been up half the night talking to his advisors about the growing unrest in Scanra, in the end he'd successfully managed to grab four hours sleep before dawn had come and another day of bureaucratic rubbish began. Alanna slouched into the room and slumped into a nearby chair; she was well known for despising these meetings and usually was not required to attend them. However, she'd been taunting Jon about the endless meetings recently and the long forgotten mean streak within him awoke and he'd ordered her to attend them _all_ for the next two weeks. The glare she shot at him in welcome was enough to show that she hadn't forgiven him. In return to this warm greeting the King smiled charmingly, attempting to keep the smirk off his face. Alanna returned it with a universally rude gesture. Faintly offended, Jon decided that drastic measures were needed…he stuck his tongue out.  

The door swung open again and Jon hastily retracted his tongue back into his mouth. Buri and Sir Myles entered both talking animatedly about something or other and both were disgustingly cheerful. Sir Myles greeted his monarch warmly and moved over to talk to his adopted daughter. Jon observed with a faint air of melancholy that Myles was looking that little bit older and creaky. There were a few less hairs on his head, a few more lines upon his face and a forever increasing air of cynicism. Jonathan's gaze moved slowly over to Alanna and a sharp pang of regret hit him. This beautiful woman, who he'd once been so in love with was looking tired, she wasn't even forty and already lines were distinguishable on her face, faded battle wounds constantly returning to remind her of their existence, every new scar more and more prominent as magic worked less each time, white strands were tangled with the shining copper and every time they met she was a little more quick to anger. They were all getting older, some, like Alanna, long before their time. He glanced at Buri and was relieved to see that the K'miri was untouched by the more severe signs of strain.

The door opened for a third time and Raoul entered followed by three knights and two members of the King's Own. Jon quirked an eyebrow and directed his gaze at the large commander. Raoul smiled apologetically before placing himself in the nearest chair, the loud creaking sound which accompanied his actions showed exactly what the chair thought of this new weight.  "I apologise for the inconvenience and short notice of this meeting," began Raoul, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. "Perhaps this matter does not merit the presence of such important people." He directed his gaze at Alanna and Buri in particular. "However, it was necessary to call this meeting now because I have received some news of an alarming nature." Jonathan rolled his eyes, '_For somebody who hates social etiquette, Raoul can really prolong a simple speech._' He caught the glint in Raoul's eyes. '_Oh,_ o_f course, he's just doing this to piss me off, I should've known_.'

"Yesterday, Miguel of Knavesridge was attacked by bandits just outside of the merchant town of Jakan. We've received no reports from Jakan in recent weeks of any bandits so it was believed they were new. However, when Miguel entered the town and began talking to some of the townsfolk, it became obvious that Jakan has been holding out on us, those bandits have been around for months. It turns out that every messenger sent with a plea for help has been slaughtered or gone missing completely. I believe that something should be done and quickly. I would like to take a small group of people with me so that we can get to the bottom of this mystery." Silence reigned at the table, each person unsure whether they should be the first to speak. Finally, Myles coughed politely, every head turned to look at him.

"Perhaps I could be of some assistance." Several people hid smiles, knowing full well what sort of 'assistance' Myles could offer.

"Really, do you have a friend in Jakan, Sir Myles?" Jon asked, perfectly straight faced.

"Unfortunately, none of them are in that part of the country and it is highly unlikely their travelling will take them to that town for a long time. My friends prefer to spend their time abroad. What I was suggesting, was perhaps sending some friends from here in Corus on a trip to Jakan, I can think of several who could do with a break from palace life."

"Any suggestions?"

"A few. However, I believe my darling daughter here might object to one of them." Alanna raised her eyebrows but refrained from saying anything. Taking it as a sign that he could continue, Myles relayed his suggestions. Alanna leapt to her feet and angrily protested. Jon groaned it looked like he would have to kiss the extra sleep goodbye. One of the knights had leapt to their feet and was shouting straight back at Alanna, immediately Buri and Raoul rose to her defence. Soon everybody was yelling backwards and forwards, the only exceptions were Myles, himself and Paxton of Nond, who rolled his eyes at the King. Jon gestured to a servant standing quietly in the corner. "Please tell Her Majesty that I won't be joining her for lunch." The servant bowed respectfully and turned to leave. Jon snatched an apple from the bowl and leant back in his seat, settling down for the duration of the scene.

Joren knocked on the door for a fourth time. She was refusing to answer the door and it was starting to annoy him. He kicked the door in frustration before giving up and leaning against it. '_Maybe ignoring__ visitors is her idea of fun_' He hoped she'd answer soon. He'd been thinking about her again, tying his insides into tight knots of loathing and lust just imagining what he could do to her. He thought of her hazel eyes. They seemed to pierce his very being and the look in them sent unwanted shudders down his spine. He often thought about her eyes, people described them as dreamer's eyes and so he believed it was fitting that he always saw them when he slept. They always taunted him and teased him, they always made him want to lash out and scream but he never did. He always took out his frustrations and needs on her, always made sure she was the one to suffer. A smirk began to form on his face followed very quickly by a look of alarm as he found himself tumbling through the newly open door towards the floor. '_Well, that's the last time I lean against **her** door_'

There was a dull thump as his head made contact with the flag stones. He moaned and shifted his head so that he could look up; Keladry of Mindelan was looking down at him with a cross between amusement and disgust on her face. "Didn't your mother teach you to stand on your own two feet?" Joren fought to keep the pink tinge of a blush appearing on his face; he scrabbled around in his mind for a clever comeback but came up with a whole lot of nothing. '_Say something, say **anything**_.' "Shut up, Lump." 'Great_, that was just great. I've never thought up a more malicious and witty retort. Please, somebody run me through with a sword._'

He angrily shook his hair out of his eyes and shot an icy glare at the 'Lady' Squire. Now, all he had to do was get to his feet in a dignified manner; then he could repay the favour. There was just one problem; there was no way he could get to his feet gracefully. The closest he could get was 'crawl' and that wasn't too appealing, but then again, it was a choice between that or 'clamber'…Joren would admit his undying love for Alanna of Trebond before resorting to such an uncouth activity such as 'clambering'. He crawled to his feet. Kel was watching him with wary eyes, unsure of what he was about to do.

A smirk fixed on his face, Joren backed Kel into the wall, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her close. She gulped in reply, eyes darting from side to side and her breath coming slightly quicker. He leant down and nuzzled against her neck, nudging her expertly into his arms. Teasingly he raised his face, being careful to run his lips slowly over every exposed piece of flesh on the way up. When he was finally level with her lips Joren looked into her eyes which looked slightly unfocused. Her breath caught and almost unconsciously she shut her eyes and tilted her head slightly up, expecting his lips to touch hers. He pulled away from her faster than she could blink.

Kel's eyes flew open and she stared accusingly at him, it would have been more successful if she hadn't been blushing heavily. "Didn't _your_ mother ever tell you not to jump to conclusions?" She opened and closed her mouth several times, clearly at a loss for words. "Huh, obviously not. Well, what can you expect from some cheap slut? She's prob-" Joren was cut of abruptly by Kel's fist connecting solidly with his jaw. Wincing in pain he nursed his rapidly swelling jaw. Kel's eyes were blazing as she eased herself into a stance suitable for fighting. He smirked insolently at her, "But baby, I'm not in the mood for a fight." His voice mocked her and she could barely refrain herself from punching him senseless. He made a lazy punch at her stomach which she diverted easily, but whilst she was distracted he wrapped his arms round her waist and smothered her lips with his own. Her feelings of fury mounted even higher, how _dare_ he do this to her. She kneed him in the crotch, hard. Wheezing with pain, Joren let her go and thumped to the floor. A triumphant smile graced Kel's lips. Before the fight could continue there was a knock at the door. Kel took advantage of Joren's current disability and kicked him closer to her bed so he could roll underneath.

Without waiting to see if he had hidden himself she opened the door. Raoul smiled at her. "Kel! I'm glad I found you so quickly. We've got ourselves a little bandit trouble in a nearby town. Pack everything you need, we're leaving first thing tomorrow." Kel bowed respectfully.

"Yes, my lord."

"Have you seen that Faleron around? He's supposed to be coming too."

"He returned to his fief, sire. I hear there are family problems." Raoul cursed softly.

"That's unfortunate." He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "If that's the case it'll have to be Joren of Stone Mountain. Have you seen him?" Kel almost blanched when he looked expectantly at her, had he seen Joren enter her room?

"No, sire." She bit back the temptation to inquire why he'd asked.

"Well, if you happen to see him, tell him to come and find me immediately." Kel nodded and bid her knight master goodbye. When she shut the door, Joren emerged from under the bed. He glared angrily at her, his expression clearly showing his lack of appreciation at being shoved under a bed. "Aww, does little Joren prefer it on top?" Kel taunted him, mock sympathy etching her tone. Joren raised a suggestive eyebrow, and sauntered towards her. 

"Are you propositioning me?" She tensed, unsure of what he planned to do. She clenched a fist as he neared; he brushed past her shoulder and reached for the door handle. Kel felt incredibly foolish. The blond turned his head slightly in her direction. "I need to talk to that brainless knight master of yours, but from the sound of it, I'll have plenty of time to take you up on the offer at a later date." Without another word he left the room, leaving Kel to fume quietly, walking down the corridor he silently congratulated himself on winning that round.

"It's open." Kel pushed the door open and walked into the room. Neal was reclining lazily in his chair, flicking through the book he'd stolen from her. He smiled at Kel and gestured to another chair. "And what brings the lovely lady to my quarters this fine afternoon?" The female squire sat down in the offered chair and faced her friend.

"I've come to say goodbye. Raoul seems to have gotten us involved in some case involving bandits. I haven't a clue how long I'll be away so I'll have to trust you'll eat your vegetables and stay out of trouble whilst I'm away," she said. Neal looked insulted briefly before alighting upon the more interesting subject of bandits.

"I've just been reading about mythical artifacts which are supposed to be connected with bandits." Neal began, gesturing excitedly towards her book; she glanced over and saw a distinctly unpleasant picture of a severed hand. Scrunching her nose in distaste, Kel looked at Neal.

"I'm sure it's absolutely fascinating, Neal. Maybe when I get back you can tell me all about it. For now though, just keep me company." Neal looked like he wanted to protest but seemed to think better of it.

"Are you alright? Is there something you want to tell me?" Neal murmured, watching Kel's face with concern. She looked at him in confusion, a quiet dread that Neal had figured something out, gnawing at her stomach.  

            "What do you mean?" She asked, attempting to keep her voice light.

            "Just admit it, Kel. You're missing Cleon, aren't you." It seemed more like a statement than a question. The heavy feeling in her gut was alleviated and she nodded tentatively.

            "Sometimes…it's hard. I keep wondering where he is and worrying about him," she stumbled over the words; faintly embarrassed that she was telling Neal this and faintly ashamed as there was so little truth in it. Neal seemed satisfied with the answer though, and reassured her that Cleon would be fine.

            They moved onto other subjects and talked amicably for several hours before the bell signaling dinner rang. Kel stood up, "I need to change before I go to dinner. I'll see you in a minute." Barely waiting for a reply, Kel headed for the door, stopping only to smile at her friend who smiled back. Heading down the corridor she didn't see the concern reflected in his eyes.

The warm light of the sunrise woke Kel. Rising, she washed and dressed hurriedly. Hoping that she wouldn't be keeping anyone waiting, Kel rushed down to the stables where a small group of people stood. She was confused, where were the King's Own?  Joren and his knight master were there, Raoul, Buri and Daine stood in a corner. Raoul spotted her and waved her over. 

            "Ah! Kel there you are. We'll be setting off as soon as Numair arrives, but knowing him he's probably fixing his hair." Kel laughed, still faintly confused as to why the party was so small. After saddling Hoshi and tying her luggage to the back she went to talk to Buri and Daine.

            "What exactly is going on?" Kel asked quietly, curiosity clear in her voice. Buri handed her an apple, knowing Kel well enough to know she hadn't eaten.

            "Bandits appeared about a month ago and started terrorizing the nearby town of Jakan. The people of the town have attempted to contact us numerous times but their messengers are disposed of before they arrive here." Daine picked up the story.

            "We've been asked to find out where the bandits are and annihilate the problem in anyway possible. We're a peculiar bunch really." Kel could see what she meant; there was certainly more than one famous person in the group. "The King's Own would have been too conspicuous. The King and his advisor are suspicious of these bandits; they don't usually take so much trouble to stop people from finding out about them. This is why we're going for the less obvious approach. You and Joren are…well…" Daine looked uncomfortable about continuing her sentence. Kel eyed her suspiciously. 

            "What aren't you telling me?" Kel demanded, her eyes narrowing. Raoul signaled them over.

"I can't tell you now; it looks like we're leaving. But just so you know it was NOT my idea." Before Kel could pester Daine anymore, she'd shot off towards Raoul who had just been joined by Numair. 

For the entire journey the adults in the party successful thwarted all of Kel's attempts to find out what was going on and she refused to talk to Joren. Thankfully it was a short journey so Kel could bear her solitude reasonably well. By the time they found an inn on the outskirts of town, Kel's mood was blacker than the night sky. She ate her dinner in the solitude of her room. The others, excluding Joren, whose mood was not much better than Kel's, were having a heated debate in the common room. "Somebody needs to tell them," Daine pointed out. Buri shook her head,

"Count me out, I don't feel like being beaten to death." Daine sighed and ran her fingers through her hair.

"What about one of you big, strong men?" Daine suggested. Buri grinned evilly and nodded. They turned to look at their companions. "Don't you feel like proving how brave and valiant you are?" Numair snorted.

"Sure, but I don't have a death wish." Daine and Buri fixed their gazes on Paxton and Raoul. Both looked distinctly unhappy. 

"Right, Paxton you tell Joren, after all you're his knight master." Daine began before somebody could object.

"And Raoul, you're a big strong knight, you tell Keladry," Buri suggested. Both of the men paled. Leaving no room for argument, Buri, Daine and Numair forcibly propelled the two knights from the room. At the door Raoul paused to speak to them.

"Until next time then…if there ever will be a next time…" Raoul stated dramatically. He left the room and slowly ascended the stairs. He paused in front of Kel's door, taking a deep breath, he knocked, "Kel, can I have a word?" She opened the door and glared blackly at Raoul. He gulped; this wasn't going to be easy. "What do you want," she demanded, allowing him to enter her chambers. Gathering his courage he explained the situation as delicately as he could…….Her scream echoed through the entire inn, **_"WHAT?!"_**

_Yet another well overdue rewrite. I should really start working harder to get this revising done so that I can write a new chapter. I'm quite fond of this chapter, although I'm not quite sure why._

_For anyone interested, who actually happens to read this, I've got my writing journal going. _

_If you got to my profile it's linked there. ^____^_

_Thoughts, feelings, flames and constructive criticism are always welcome.___

_Until next time!_

_Adrienne_

****

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	5. Temper Tantrums

Conscience

****

Paxton of Nond knocked hesitantly on Joren's door, wondering how on earth he could explain the situation to Joren without getting himself killed. Faintly relieved when there was no answer, Paxton slunk back down to the common room. About to order a drink from the bar, the knight felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning round he came face to face with a puzzled looking Buri. "You've told him already? And he hasn't attempted to throttle you? Somehow I doubt it. Find him. Now." Her tone of voice left no room for argument. Sighing deeply Paxton left the inn in search of Joren. He was frustrated to find that he was sitting on a low wall directly in front of the inn. His plotted excuse of not being able to find him was instantly destroyed.

            Hearing somebody behind him, Joren glanced round, his entire body tensing. Seeing it was his knight master he smiled and relaxed. Paxton returned the smile uneasily knowing what he was about to tell Joren would very quickly wipe the smile from his face.

            "Joren, I have something important to tell you." Although Joren's perpetually bored expression didn't change, he cocked his head as a sign that he was listening. Breathing deeply, Paxton blurted out what he had to say as quickly as possible. Apprehensively he watched Joren's face for a reaction, praying that his reaction wouldn't be too violent.

            Joren turned to face his knight master directly; his eyes dark. A low growl escaped him as he lunged at Paxton, fully intent on throttling him. Paxton raised his hands to defend himself. '_The gods hate me,_' he thought mournfully as he threw up his hands to defend himself. He resolved never to ask the gods for help again. 

            "What," growled Kel. Her initially furious reaction replaced by this calm fury that seemed to emanate from every pore. Filled with this quiet wrath she backed Raoul into a corner. "You really don't want to make me do this." Her voice was so soft that Raoul had to strain to hear what she said. He cringed at her tone of voice, fully aware that she would probably think of some horribly gruesome fate for her knight master. She advanced further towards him until his back hit the wall. Raoul came to the conclusion that now was the time for drastic action. He cowered before her wrath.

            "Kel, it's the only sensible way." Raoul mumbled in his defence. As Kel's eyes darkened, he realised that it was the wrong thing to say.

            "The only way? The _only_ way?" Kel's voice was clearly under tight control as she ground out the words. Raoul stared apprehensively at his squire, fully aware that although her Yamani face was on, Kel's feelings were beginning to spiral out of control. As Kel's eyes glittered dangerously, Raoul came to the conclusion that he had just hit rock bottom. It was at this point Buri and Daine burst through the door; summoned by the initial screech of horror.

            At the sight of Kel towering over her enormous 'giant killing' knight master Buri and Daine had to bit back laughter. However, when Kel turned her thunderous expression on them, the laughter died from their throats and they decided it was time to make a hasty exit. The gleam in Kel's eyes suggested she had other plans.

            Meanwhile Numair was attempting in vain to separate Joren and Paxton. Joren seemed to be having a little difficulty getting over his homicidal urges and since Paxton was expending all of his energy trying to keep Joren at bay, he didn't stand a chance of trying to calm him down. Joren was also in the process of vehemently disagreeing with whatever Paxton. The repetitive yelling of no was beginning to grate Numair's ears and he sent out his unspoken sympathy to the many shepherds living with the bleating of sheep.

            Endeavouring to be heard over Joren's monotonous chant, Numair began to reason with Joren. The notorious disdainful expression appeared on Joren's face as he glanced at Numair. He made it quite clear that he had no intention of listening to a _progressive_ such as him. Numair sighed in frustration and ran his hand through his long black hair. He allowed it to drop back to his side; he smiled as he felt somebody slip their own warm hand into his own.

            He smiled, "Daine," he murmured, turning to look into the stormy grey eyes of his lover.

            "I see Joren's decided to solve his problems by murdering his knight master. I hope it works out for him," Daine commented, completely straight faced. She allowed her amused eyes to flick to the seething Joren and to the faintly bewildered Paxton before she rested them on the tall mage in front of her once more. Numair sighed again.

            "I've tried separating the two but Joren seems very adamant about throttling his knight master. When that failed I tried reasoning with Joren but it seems all powers of reasoning have fled from his brain." Numair shook his head in despair.

            "Darling, have you forgotten that you are a very powerful mage?" Daine asked gently.

            There was a pause. Numair blinked.

            "That my sweet, is a very good point," he remarked. Daine rolled her eyes heavenward. "Let us never speak of this incident again." Daine nodded her agreement; she didn't want the entire city to know that she was in love with an idiot. Numair gestured vaguely at Joren and suddenly the homicidal squire found himself speechless, literally. Numair let out a deep breath of relief as the endless ranting came to an end. "At long last, blessed relief." Daine was looking at him expectantly. "Yes, my sweet? What is it?" The Wildmage looked at him in mild despair.

"Um, Numair? What about separating Paxton and Joren round about now?" She suggested exasperation clear in her voice.

"Oh! Of course, how foolish of me to forget that that is our most pressing problem," he exclaimed. He flicked a hand at Joren and the startled squire found him several metres away from Paxton. Blinking with mild surprise, Joren shook the dirt from his hair and attempting to lunge for Paxton a second time, mouth spewing a string of silent curses. The look of astonishment on Joren's face was magnified. He glared venomously at Numair, his silent threat apparent by the murderous glint in his eye. It was at this point that a string of vehement curses could be heard from the upper story. Tilting her head backwards, Daine cast her eyes over the upstairs windows. When she had pinpointed the origin of the sound she paled.

            "I didn't think Raoul would actually take Kel up on that challenge. I should never have left those three alone, especially when Kel is rivalling Joren in the vehement protestations department," she muttered. Numair grinned wickedly at Daine.

            "And you thought Joren being homicidal was bad? Kel appears to have gone for the suicidal approach," he taunted. Daine sniffed in a dignified manner before sticking her tongue out at him. A smile of triumph graced her lips at his baffled expression before she spun round and marched back into the inn. Numair turned to attend his two charges; Paxton had clambered to his feet and was currently brushing off the worst of the dirt. He shot a grateful look at Numair, who grinned winningly. Turning to look at Joren, he saw that the squire had sunk to the floor with a moody expression on his face. Hearing the exclamations from the room upstairs grow louder, Numair decided it would be a good plan to go and check on the others. He turned to Joren and stared directly into his face. "You will follow me up the stairs. You will not attempt to do anything else or I won't be inclined to give back your voice. Do I make myself clear?" His tone of voice clearly got its message across as Joren simply nodded. Numair smirked at Joren, "Good." He turned towards the inn, gesturing for Joren to go before him. Grudgingly the squire preceded the black mage into the inn and together the trio hurried to Kel's room.

            The sight before them was an interesting one. Kel and Raoul were circling each other, both clutching their swords. Neither seemed injured, as although they were fighting they clearly didn't wish to hurt one another. Or at least, Raoul didn't want to hurt Kel, the glint in Kel's eyes suggested she had other ideas. Although neither had the upper hand, it was clear to all that Kel was certainly giving her knight master a run for his money, everybody made a mental note never to get on her bad side. An extremely grudging look of admiration appeared on Joren's face as he watched her, but it was quickly wiped away. Buri and Daine were hovering near the door; Buri was clutching her sword, obviously still unsure whether she should enter the fray. Daine, however, had obviously come to the conclusion that only Numair could solve this dilemma as when he strode into the room after Joren she relaxed. Numair narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the scene. This was getting ridiculous. If they weren't careful the landlord would chuck them out. He waved his hand angrily; all three swords shot from their owners grasp and landed neatly at Numair's feet. He then spun round to face Kel, waving his hand at her, she found herself in the position Joren had been in earlier, unable to speak or move.

"Sit," he commanded both Joren and Kel; pointing at two chairs by the window. Unable to disobey, they both sat down on the chairs. As soon as she was sitting down, the furious energy seemed to dissipate from Kel, and she sat, looking resigned to her fate and embarrassed at her reaction. Joren, however, was still glaring with as much malice as he could muster at the adults.

            "Now, if I allow you to talk again, will you promise not yell?" Numair demanded impatiently. Kel nodded, her expression impassive once again, Joren, however, just glowered sulkily, Numair took that as a yes. The dense feeling of magic was lifted from the air and the two squires gasped simultaneously. Kel recollected herself first and turned to look accusingly at Raoul, "You are a BAD man." 

            Thankfully she didn't elaborate any further and the apology in her eyes was enough to pacify her knight master. Joren sneered at Kel, "I don't know why you are so unhappy; this is probably the chance of a life time for you." Kel didn't deign to answer and they sat there glaring heatedly at each other.

            "Now, will you please allow us to explain the situation like rational adults with you?" begged Buri, crossing her fingers behind her back. Both squires nodded reluctantly and the adults began to explain the details of the plan.

"It's a stupid plan. Nobody will fall for it," snapped Joren after they had finished.

"Of course they won't fall for it, not if _you're _supposed to be in on it," retorted Kel lazily. 

"Well, nobody is going to believe anything if you act like that around each other," interrupted Paxton, before the two of them could begin an argument. "Grow up, the pair of you."

"She doesn't need to grow up anymore; she's already a lumbering giant."

"At least I look like the gender I'm supposed to."

"What's that supposed to me?"

"Aww, you're dumb as well. So it is true what they say about blonds." The bickering squires continued for another five minutes before turning simultaneously to the adults.

            "You will **_never_** get me to do this!" they shouted in unison.

"I can't believe they got me to do this," groaned Kel as she rubbed her temples. She was wearing a dark red dress, simply adorned with a ribbon around the collar. Her hair had been pulled into a knot on the back of her head and clipped there with a small silver clip. She had been extremely dismayed to find that her hair had been long enough for her to do this and she vowed never to go for such a long time with a haircut again. 

She was sitting at a small table in the corner of the inn, The Sword and Crossbow. It was the main inn at Jakan, situated almost exactly in its centre. As she sat there by herself she muttered all the things Raoul had said, impersonating his voice was disturbing accuracy.

"Nobody will suspect you if you do it, not like a group of armed soldiers would. Think of all the places you can go without being suspicious, they'll trust you." Kel hadn't been able to cope with the barrage of reasons being forced upon her so had finally given in and now here she was stuck in a smoky crowded inn with a load of drunken idiots who kept on leering suggestively at her. 

Kel ran a finger round the glass in front of her. She was incredibly bored and he hadn't bothered turned up yet, trust the bastard to be late. Suddenly a flash of blond over near the door caught her eye. He was here, it was time. She drew in a shaky breath, suddenly wishing he hadn't come yet. Praying she wouldn't clout him over the head instead of what she was supposed to do; Kel stood and straightened her skirts. She rolled her shoulders gently and worked a crick from her neck. Then she began.

She gasped loudly. "Joren?" she yelled as she ran towards him, arms flung open. "Oh Joren…" She sighed as she collided with his chest and slipped her arms round him.

_A/N: Hurray! Yet another chapter rewritten. I feel like Kel and Joren are slightly more in character this time, the original one of this was just…random. Hopefully this process shouldn't take me much longer and I can finally write and post a new chapter._

_Thoughts, feelings, flames and constructive criticism are always welcome._

_Until next time!_

_Adrienne_


	6. The Princess and her Knight

Conscience

**_A/N: Look at the end _**

Joren laughed a hearty laugh and spun Kel around, still laughing. "Yes my princess! I'm here at last," he proclaimed. He drew Kel tightly against him, gazing deeply into her face. Under her breath Kel hissed,

            "Don't hold me so tight. I need to breath." Joren with a loving smile fixed on his face muttered,

            "It's not my fault if you need to lose weight."

            "Are you saying I'm fat?" Kel snapped, barely keeping her voice down. Joren couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes.

            "Being in such close quarters with me must have dulled you wits. Of _course I'm calling you fat." Kel started to splutter incoherently. To shut her up he brought his lips to hers in a chaise kiss. "Do not fret princess! For I shall not leave for many months, so stop your protesting and let us enjoy our time." Kel suddenly blushed.  She had let her feelings get the better of her when everyone was watching them. If they didn't pull this off then they were doomed. Kel hated to admit it but Joren had just saved the performance._

            Kel laughed giddily. "Oh Joren! My knight in shining armour! As long as you are here to protect me I feel no discontent." Joren smiled in such a condescending manner that Kel wanted to slap him.

            "Come! Let us sit!" he declared. She took his hand and lead him to the table she had secured beforehand.

            As the evening slipped by people often came to sit with them. Begging to know how they had met. Kel and Joren had hammered their story out to perfection the night before. They had decided that Kel had been wandering in the woods one night when a Taurus had attacked her. Joren had appeared on his 'noble steed' and cut him down. Then he had swept her onto his horse and galloped off with her. A knight in shining armour! As a woman left their table Kel muttered, "If I have to say that story once more I'll scream." Joren smiled his agreement. But at least the constant flow of people proved they had been accepted by the people.

            Suddenly they found they were alone at the table with nobody bothering them. Unfortunately this meant they had to do something. Kel was unsure of how to proceed. Thankfully Joren caught her eye. Then he flicked his eyes from Kel to his lap and back again. She rolled her eyes but still stood up and walked over to him. He slipped his arms round her waist and pulled her onto his lap. He then started to nuzzle her neck and nip at her ear. All Kel had to do was giggle in an imbecilic way. In fact it was such a good imitation of the court ladies that she wanted to slap herself to make it stop.

            They sat like this for the rest of the evening occasionally kissing or entwining their hands. Anyone who knew them would have died of heart failure at the sight of them but to the occupants of the inn it was just two lovers besotted with each other.

            Eventually they retired to their rented room. They stared at the double bed. Kel threw a sidelong glance at Joren. "When did Numair say that they would check up on us?" 

            Joren smirked, "Not 'til tomorrow afternoon."

            "Really?"

            "Positive."

            "Well, in that case I have time to check how much stamina my knight has."

            "And I have time to see if the princess was worth saving."

            Kel struck a dramatic pose. "Go ahead valiant knight, sweep me off my feet and take whatever reward you desire." Joren raised an eyebrow, suddenly he scooped her into his arms and strode over to the bed. Kel laughed as he pulled her hair from its knot and pushed her down onto the bed.

***

            It was dawn when Kel awoke. When she tried to move she was surprised to find Joren's arms wrapped around her. It was astonishing, even after months of sex this kind of show of affection never occurred. She shook herself, no, he was acting, nothing was real. But, surely they didn't need to act in private?

            Groaning, Kel rolled out of the bed. As she pulled away from Joren's grasp he mumbled and turned over. His hair fell across his face, making him look younger and vulnerable, the peaceful expression made her heart wrench. Mithros, she could almost love him at times like this. He looked like an angel.

            Abruptly she turned away. Her thoughts weren't good and they need to stop _now. She picked up the clothes which had been discarded the night before. She put away the red dress and dragged out the only other dress which had been brought. It was a deep emerald colour and fit just as perfectly as the other had, which gave away Lalasa's involvement. She brushed her hair but left it down._

            She wandered over to the window and started to stare out over the town. Her mind drifted with the clouds until a pair of warm arms round her waist brought her back. Joren kissed her neck and whispered, "Morning, princess." Kel wriggled round until she face the blond. She gave him a long measured stare.

            "You're still acting aren't you?" she whispered, praying she was wrong. When he smirked in reply Kel pulled away and walked towards the door.

            "Awwww! Poor princess, have I ruined your fantasy that someone might like you?" he drawled. He turned to get dressed but he couldn't ignore the twinge inside him when he saw the tears spilling down Kel's face as she shut the door behind her.

**_Mwa_****_ ha ha ha ha! I'm making Joren go through hell. Heh heh. Sorry about the cliff hangers but at least the chapters are slightly more regular than before. The majority decision is that Cleon dies. But, judging from your reactions to cliff hangers you are going to murder me 6 times over for the later chapters. Anyone other than Witch child wanna be my beta? No offence to Witch child but I can't quite believe she won't only look at the spelling. If any one does email me, I'll be happy to return the favour for anyone who asks   _**

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**_Okay Witch child this is for you, it has nothing to do with anything and hasn't actually happened._**

**_Neal skipped gaily along the path. Suddenly he tripped on a rock and rolled over the cliff edge. Luckily he grabbed onto the edge but he could feel his fingers slipping…._**

**_So, Witch child if you continue to make the comments about hanging off cliffs _****_Neal_********_FALLS_****_ to a rocky end._**

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**_Thank you all to the wonderful people who have been reviewing I absolutely ADORE you. Please keep reviewing it really makes my day, three times over!_**

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	7. An Unexpected Twist

Conscience

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**_A/N: I'll grovel at the end. I've managed to sort the format problem.._**

Kel wiped her eyes, furious that her Yamani training had crumbled. She rested her head against the wall, willing her face to become calm. Gradually the tears stopped trickling and she could go downstairs without looking like a mess.

            When she reached the common room the landlady smiled and hurried over. "Isabelle!" She called. Kel smiled back, forcing herself not to wince when she heard the name. Raoul had insisted on it. Joren wasn't well known round here but Keladry of Mindelan was the famous lady squire.

            Smiling, Kel greeted the buxom blonde. Ellen, the landlady, drew her over to the bar. "Now, what can I be getting you to eat?" Kel bit her lip in thought. She was tempted to skip breakfast because her appetite had disappeared. But the image of her fainting in front of Joren in a crucial part of the mission stopped her.

            "Something simple, I don't want any hassle. Some fruit juice would be welcomed." Ellen bustled off towards the kitchen leaving Kel alone. It was still early and none of the other guests had woken yet. Sighing, Kel rubbed her temples. She could feel a dull headache beginning. It all come down to one thing, her life. It sucked. '_Let's count what's wrong. I'm sleeping with an arrogant egotistical jerk who is painfully attractive, moves with a fluid catlike grace and is incredibly well toned and these thoughts need to stop NOW. On top of that minor problem I'm posing as Isabelle of __Springdale__ who is being courted by Joren of __Stone Mountain__ just so we can find out about some poxy band of beggars who are robbing the town blind.'_

Groaning, the young squire allowed her head to thud gently against the bar top. She slowed her breathing and closed her eyes. For once she felt peaceful and would have remained in tranquillity if it weren't for the feeling of long cool fingers pulling her head up. Kel allowed her head to be gently turned so she was staring directly into her lover's beautiful ice blue eyes which currently danced with a mocking gleam. Joren asked, in a voice dripping with concern, "Princess, are you alright?" Kel shot him a look that could kill and answered in a voice which contradicted the look so violently he almost laughed.

            "Oh, just fine, dearest. I'm just hungry."

            "Well, I can fix that," Ellen announced as she walked in, carrying a plate of very appetising food. It appeared to have two rolls, butter and porridge laden with honey and fruit. Smiling, Kel thanked Ellen before starting her breakfast. The landlady turned to Joren and flashed him a dazzling smile. She leaned suggestively towards him, lowering her voice so it became husky. "What can I get you?" The blond man mentally held himself on a leash. _'Can't flirt, can't flirt. On mission, mustn't fail, supposedly desperately in love with The Lump next to me.' _Due to his mental battle his voice sounded strained.

            "Copper Isle Red Griffin tea and some plain porridge, please." Ellen nodded briskly and left for the kitchen again.

            The two companions sat in silence, occasionally shooting glares in each other's direction. Before the tension could build further Ellen returned with Joren's food. The squire waved her away and began to eat his food ravenously. Kel squinted at the red substance in his mug. "Copper Isle Red Griffin tea, a very distinct taste," a soft voice murmured in her ear. The mug disappeared from view as Joren brought it to his lips. His eyes flickered wickedly. "Would you like to try some?" His face was angelic as he passed the tea to Kel.

            Kel narrowed her eyes suspiciously. There was no logical reason not to accept the tea, he would hardly poison it. But she was incredibly wary of his intentions. Just when she was going to politely decline , she saw movement at the corner of her eye. It was Ellen watching the young couple from the kitchen door. Plastering a look of adoration on her face, Kel gripped her partner's fingers and kissed each one.

            "Dearheart, nothing would give me more pleasure than sampling something that has touched your lips." The girl took the mug and brought it to her lips. As she did so she could feel Joren had planted his gaze firmly on her face. It was seconds later that the liquid trickled down her throat. Kel's eyes widened and she spat the rest out. Spluttering, she clutched her throat. "Argh! That was foul," she exclaimed. 

            She chanced a look at the elder squire. He was desperately trying not to laugh. It startled her to see that Joren's eyes were dancing with laughter. Gasping softly, Kel reached  forward, completely on impulse, and gently ran a hand down his face. Joren reached his hand up and caught hers. Gently he pressed his lips to it, "I apologise for the terrible occurrence you have just experienced. Please forgive me. I am your humble servant." Kel eyed her 'humble servant,' as far as she could see he was as conceited and supercilious as always. 

            "Oh, Joren! Never could you do wrong in my eyes. An error of judgement is all you have committed and what mortal can claim never to have made one?" Smiling, Joren tugged her off her seat and onto his lap. Cupping her face with his hands he kissed and tenderly.

            To their surprise there was loud applause from the hallway door where a large number of the guest who were also staying at the inn had gathered. They had obviously just watched the exchange and had enjoyed the outcome. Breaking the kiss, Joren leaned towards Kel's ear and murmured softly, "We've won the crowd."

            Joren was right, the word soon spread about the happy, young couple staying at the inn. The town accepted them and they were free to wander round without anybody being suspicious.

            "It's perfect," concluded Joren as he pushed himself from the wall he had been leaning against. Raoul rubbed his chin absently as he mulled over what Joren and Kel had reported. It appeared that everything was going wonderfully. The two teenagers were certainly playing their parts beautifully. When he saw the first encounter he almost believed that they loved each other. It was very strange, he knew they hated each other, he had definitely not expected them to be so convincing. As he thought about them his eyes drifted over to each one in turn. The knight bit back a laugh when he saw that they were at opposite sides of the room, glaring daggers at each other.

            Paxton cleared his throat to bring attention to himself. "You two have done a magnificent job these last two weeks and I congratulate you. But we have to ask you to add one more detail to your little charade…"

            It was a full two hours before Raoul and Paxton had calmed the raving teenagers down. It was only at this point that they could limp back to an inn outside town to recuperate.

            Joren paced backwards and forwards angrily. Kel watched him, biting her nail. "Quit it," she finally snapped. He did, long enough to raise his eyebrows, sniff disdainfully and smirk. He then carried on.

            Kel sighed in exasperation. "Look, the sooner we do this the sooner we can go home. We can't change their minds, so deal with it." The severely pissed off man narrowed his eyes and growled. Unfortunately he knew she was right and, defeated, he slumped into an obliging chair.

            Kel stood after a couple of minutes silence and walked over to the door. "Come down when you're ready," she said softly. Joren placed his head in his hands and listened as the door clicked shut. Thoughts shot around his head, every train of thought lead to the same answer, g_et it over with._  

            Groaning the squire stood, yawned and stalked out of the room. Once downstairs  he looked for Kel and found her sitting over by the fire. Steeling himself he strode over. The brunette raised her head and saw him. She rose and held out her hand. Joren brushed her fingertips with his lips. Gesturing to a chair next to her she sat. Soon a polite conversation was started, mainly about weather and the political situation in Tortall. Suddenly there was a gap in the conversation. To Kel's immense surprise Joren leapt to his feet only to fall on one knee in front of her.

            "I can bear it no longer, I must ask now before I am torn apart from within. Please listen to my proposition. You fill my nights and days with unending pleasure, every waking minute I think only of you. You are my paradise and my only happiness. I want to spend my life with you and only you. I beg of you, my sweet angel, do not keep me in suspense. Will you do me the honour of being my wife?" 

**_A/N: *Shuffles on with big shield* I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I am so cruel! I don't update for three months and when I do I leave you with a horrible cliff-hanger like that? I am EVIL. But thank you all so much, you are the most amazing, wonderful, fantastic people in the entire world. Please keep reviewing, with 6 chapters and 200 reviews I can't wait to see how many I will have by the end. I adore you all, thank you, thank you, thank you. Also, I would like to know if anybody has put me on their favourite author list. Because I love them! I want to put them on my Favourite People list. Please contact me somehow, so I can shower you with thanks. I must admit I could barely keep from bursting into archaic English. It was a lot of fun to write!._**

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**_Favourite People of the Chapter_**

**_opal-_****_dragon- For being my beta, I really appreciate it._**

**_Stunt cat and Angel Yuy- My two other betas, (what?_****_ I like to make sure the chapter is perfect!) I'm sorry I didn't wait for your comments but it was taking such a long time, naturally, it  is summer after all. Hopefully you can help in the next chapter._**

**_Mandi-girl- You._****_ Are. Wonderful. There was a fic about the clichés of Tamora Pierce, I happened to read the reviews and you DEFENDED me! Therefore you are the most wonderful person. Thank you!_**

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**_Until next time! (Hopefully soon)_**

**_Adrienne_**

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	8. Dancing, Dresses and Dark Alleys

Conscience

            _"Will you do me the honour of being my wife?"_

Kel blinked, when Raoul had said being engaged she hadn't quite expected that. Joren was surprisingly poetic, when he wanted to be. Suddenly she realised that Joren was waiting for an answer. Kel smiled wryly, she was sorely tempted to ruin the atmosphere by shrugging and saying, 'Alright then.' However, even Kel wasn't that unromantic. The young women rose gracefully and grasped Joren's hands tightly in her own.

            "My dearest Joren, I cannot accept this proposal. My feelings run deeper than the Inland Sea but would this unity be proper? I cannot allow you to marry beneath yourself. Your father would disown you, and the close relation you once had with him would be destroyed. In time you would grow to hate me for it, and the pain that would cause me would be too great a burden to bear." Forcing tears to form, Kel whirled away from Joren.

            "Confound my father," Joren snapped. "I care not for money or my reputation. Sweet angel, do not turn so coldly from me. Without your voice whispering in my ear I could not survive those dark nights. Without your soft touch upon my arm I would freeze up inside. When I am with you a fire burns within, do not quench this passion with the cold ice of rejection. I beg of you, become my wife."

            Kel barely stopped herself from scowling; he always had to out do her. The brunette bit her lip absently as in a split second she formed her next speech. She turned to face Joren again. "My darling, you speak of love, you speak of need, you speak of passion, you speak of a fire that burns. But fire, it scolds you and, eventually it goes out. My love for you is more like an ember, it glows, steadily constantly, Stir it and it leaps to flames before returning to its comforting flicker. It will not fade or waver, nothing can quench it. Undying and enduring, like I hope our marriage will." And with that Kel smiled and embrace Joren.

            A thick blanket of quiet filled the inn. Nothing was said until there was a collective sigh from a group of giggling ladies. Instantly the silence was broken and the room was filled with laughter, clapping and cheering as wave after wave of fairly drunk men and women came to give congratulations to the 'happy' couple.

            The crowd clamoured for more wine and music to celebrate the occasion. The piano in the corner was dusted down and a young man with a mop of brown hair and a cheeky grin was persuaded to play. He proceeded to play piece after piece of lively music. The tables were pushed back and soon the newly cleared space was filled with people dancing and laughing. Everyone was putting back mug after mug of ale and wine, although they tended to tip more down their shirts than their throats.

            Joren and Kel found themselves surrounded by a multitude of people. Although they were all smiling and cheerful, they were surprisingly persistent when it came to dancing. They demanded that the two squires dance with everyone in the room. As Kel slipped away she couldn't help but think they probably would have demanded she dance with every _chair_ in the room, after she had finished with the humans.

            The brunette leant against the wall with a sigh. Somebody emitted a low chuckle from next to her. Startled, Kel jerked her head round. She relaxed when she saw it was simply the young man who'd been asked to play the piano. He grinned at her widely. "Havin' fun are we?" He let out another chuckle when Kel made a face, before continuing. "They are slightly over excitable." Kel snorted. "You can't blame them though, something like this rarely happens," he added, flicking his hair from his eyes. Kel blinked. How could he flick his hair from his eyes whilst playing the piano?

            "You're not playing the piano!" She exclaimed as the realisation hit her. The man grinned wickedly.

            "I stopped awhile ago," he admitted. "But it's not like anyone's sober enough to notice or care." He declared, defending himself. Kel laughed out loud. She pretended to think deeply.

            "Alright, I'll forgive you…what's your name?" 

The man grinned once again. "What do I get if I tell you?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly. Kel rolled her eyes.

            "How about a dance, Mr Awkward." The man rose and held out his hand.

            "Ahanu, at your service. Now, how about that dance?" Laughing and chatting they joined the heaving crowd, dancing to the nonexistent music.

***

            Kel groaned and rolled over, her head was pounding insistently. She couldn't have a hangover, she hadn't drunk that much. Frowning she attempted to remember what had taken place. Proposal, dancing, music, ale, kissing. An impish smile played across her lips. Judging by the warm hand lying gently across her stomach, it had been more than just kissing. The young woman glanced over at her companion and saw a peacefully sleeping Joren.

            The pounding was still persisting. Groaning, Kel put the pillow over her head. She lay like this for a few seconds before the realisation dawned on her, it was the _door. _Hastily Kel stumbled to her feet and shuffled towards the door, pulling on clothes as she went. Light spilled across the room as she opened the door. Before her stood a disgustingly cheerful Ellen. Her golden hair was as neatly combed as ever and her blue eyes were alert and bright.

All dignity forgotten, Kel slumped against the door frame, glaring menacingly at the blonde. Ellen appeared to get the idea as her smile vanished. She shoved a piece of paper into Kel's hand, quickly explaining that it was the address of a seamstress who would make Kel a wedding dress for a reasonable price. Ellen smiled hesitantly before fleeing down the corridor.

Sighing Kel shut the door. She turned round, her eyes automatically straying to her companion. He was leaning on his elbows, his hair tousled and his blue eyes sleepy but his trademark smirk was firmly in place. The ice angel ran his eyes lazily up and down Kel's body. Kel gazed calmly at him, feeling strangely apathetic. "I'm going to the seamstress today, to see about a dress fitting," she murmured softly. Joren gave no answer, so Kel began to busy herself with taming her appearance and making herself presentable.

As she pulled her hair into a loose bun at the nape of her neck, she heard a nonchalant drawl from behind her, "Why bother? I prefer you out of your clothing, far less work for me." Kel surprised herself by producing a low, threatening growl as Joren wrapped an arm round her waist, gently pulling her closer.

"Cut the crap, Joren. Stop screwing with my mind and leave me alone," Kel whispered, her voice controlled and even. Joren spun her round, lightly holding her chin he searched her eyes. As she plunged herself into their icy depths she saw something flicker. In the next moment he had let her go. All she could see as she walked from the room was his muscles rippling smoothly as he stalked over to the window. 

***

            _Sunlight played across his smooth back, the muscles rippling as smoothly as the ocean. The warm light giving his pale skin an almost ethereal glow. His face aristocratically formed, each feature appeared to be chiselled to perfection. His eyes a deep ice blue, so cold and merciless usually, but at that moment, warm and bright. A light colour spread across his cheeks and a smile played across his lips, replacing the smirk. His hair hung round his godlike face in soft waves. Each ray of dancing light bounced from his hair making it so white it could rival the untrodden snow. He was tall, he held himself with such grace, each muscle as toned as the others. He should be a god, or an angel. No being so perfect should be mortal. Smiling he spoke, his voice light tenor, pleasant and musical. Slowly he raised a hand, beckoning her, his head tilted to one side as he waited for her. He held out his arms as she ran towards him, his laugh filling the air- _

"Mithros curse him to the Black God's Realm." Kel muttered savagely as she strode towards Oakberry Street. Image after image of Joren was plaguing her. Why did he have to be so god damn perfect? He was a foul human being, barely capable of the decent human emotions, as far as she knew, and yet she couldn't rid her mind of him. She kicked a stone to vent her rage, unfortunately she was so angry that she missed. This only increased her anger more, so she kicked the next thing in her sight, a large door.  The sharp pain in her foot was enough to bring her to her senses. As she hopped about holding her injured foot, she noticed that the door she had kicked was the seamstress'. Grimacing in pain and displeasure Kel hobbled into the shop.

            The shop was small and well kept. The wooden floor was swept, the furniture was sturdy and a warm fire crackled in the hearth. Kel relaxed instantly, it was warm and homely. On the shop counter were some neatly laid out tools, as her eyes wandered over the rest of the room she noticed a door leading off to somewhere, probably a fitting room, with all the materials in it. Then she noticed the middle aged woman dozing by the fire. Gingerly, Kel walked her to the slumbering woman. She gently shook her shoulder, hoping the seamstress wouldn't be alarmed.

            The seamstress opened her eyes and yelped in surprise at seeing a strange young girl staring down at her. Hastily she jumped to her feet, bobbing in courteous way. "I'm sorry." Her voice was thick with a lilting country accent. "If  I'd of known that I'd be havin' visitors, I would never have dropped off like that." Kel waved aside her apologies, explaining that is was of no consequence. She explained that she was here to purchase a wedding dress, and several other gowns for every day use. The seamstress nodded along all the way through, carefully listening to all that Kel said. "Very well, m'am. I dare say that I'll be able to knock somethin' up for you. My name is Annie, although many of the nobles can't bear the idea of such a common name. They're the ones who insist on callin' me Mistress Anne. Call me what you will, but please don't interfere with my craft, because I dare say it will all go terribly wrong if you do." Kel hid a grin, she already liked Annie, she seemed to be a down to earth kind of woman, somebody who believed in the truth, even if it hurt people.

            Kel reassured her that she would never interfere in something she didn't know about and also that she would be Annie to her, and nothing else. "I don't see why I should call you by any other name, if Annie is your name, then Annie is your name. Nothing will change that. But if I call you Annie, you must call me Isabelle." After this Annie grinned, she led Kel over to the door that the squire had spotted earlier. Inside were large rolls of materials. The seamstress directed Kel towards a stool in the middle of the room. Listening intently, Kel followed each order that the practical Annie gave her. She soon found herself surrounded by tape measures, rolls of materials and several timid assistant girls.

            It was a long, tedious process, involving much measuring, standing around and coming up with creative ideas for the dress. If Annie hadn't been present Kel thought she probably would have gone completely mad. The two young girls who were acting as assistants were incapable of talking about anything other than the fact Kel was so lucky to be getting married. And how Joren was so handsome, and, as one girl put it, 'dreamy'. But Annie proved to be a useful source of information, telling Kel a lot about the layout of the town. Mostly how the town was sectioned into districts.

            "This side of town is fairly middle class. We certainly aren't poor round 'ere, many rich merchants will venture to this part of town for a dress or two. No, we certainly aren't badly situated. I've made myself a good name, I have; made one or two dresses for Baron Noxly's wife. He's the man in charge. Runs things for the King, makes sure everything goes smoothly. Although recently he hasn't been doin' his job too well; there've been plenty of robb'ries round this part of town. My brother, who lives down Pine Street was robbed only last week. It's not too surprisin' that so many bandits and thieves live round here. The town is made up of so many wealthy merchants, we're a well known tradin' town, some of the finest goods in the kingdom. He lost a large stock of pigs, he did, thoroughbred an' all. Only just in they were…." Kel tuned out at this stage, 'plenty of robb'ries round this part of town.' '_That sounds like those filthy bandits'._

            She let her mind drift at this point, occasionally listening to a line or two of what Annie was saying, throwing several comments in herself. Finally, after at least three hours, Annie clapped her hands together once. "Right, that's you done, m'dear. Let's just work out when the payment will be due." After ten minutes of Annie's clumsy arithmetic, Kel was free to leave. She pushed open the door and breathed out deeply as the cool afternoon breeze hit her flushed face. _'Lives down __Pine Street__' Sprang to her mind, it couldn't be far…could it? And now that she was free it would be easy to wander around, and try and find this Pine Street. Confidence laced it's way through her mind and she found herself walking off in search of this street._

***

            Evening was coming on and the sky was a beautiful, delicate gold. Shot through with purple, orange and at the edges a tinge of midnight blue. Clouds drifted slowly across the horizon, and a cool, pleasant breeze swirled gently around. The birds were gradually quieting and other animals were venturing from their holes.  In the town, lights were beginning to appear in windows. Loud music and laughter could be heard from local taverns, the smell of ale wafting in the breeze.

            A young woman slumped against a wall. Her brown hair falling across her flushed face. Her form was rigid was anger, and the rage seemed to radiate off her in waves.  Keladry of Mindelan, Lady Squire, was lost, hopelessly, completely, totally, utterly, incredibly lost. In fact, she was so lost, it defied all description. Nobody could have been more lost than Keladry of Mindelan, even if they rambled round the most miserable rat warren of a town with their eyes shut for four days, they couldn't be anymore lost than Kel.

            "All I wanted to do was find Pine Street," muttered the furious squire. Sighing, she took another random turning, heading down a well-lit road, taverns and shops on either side. A huge commotion was heard within a particular seedy looking pub to the right of her. She hurried away when several unpleasant looking men staggered out, one with an ugly cut run down his side and the other holding a mean looking knife.

            Due to the fact she was as lost as she could be she took random turnings and junctions, in the hope of finding something she might recognise. Unfortunately, the tactic didn't seem to be working. Instead of finding familiar names and landmarks, she found seedier pubs and dark alleys. Groaning, she sat on top of a large wooden crate, absently swinging her legs as she glanced round. Several dark back lanes sprouted from the street, and there was a particularly sinister one next to her.

            Suddenly she froze. There were voices, coming from the entrance to the alley. Listening intently she could make out three male voices. Each was ominous, unpleasant and had an oily tinge to it. Kel shudder, they certainly didn't sound like the kind of company she would keep willingly. An especially strong wisp of breeze carried the conversation to her. "I say we kill them first, and then do the job. It's far easier, and there's no chance of an alarm being raised." She cocked her head, hoping to catch more of what was said. However, that was the only thing she caught. It was enough to chill her blood though, she didn't have anybody with her, and only a small knife tucked in the top of her boot. There was no way she could defend herself against three dangerous sounding men, especially when they appeared to have no qualms about killing people.

            Silently Kel jumped down from her perch, landing in a crouch. Unfortunately as she crept away, her boot caught on something and she fell to the floor with a loud crash. Cursing softly she throw herself behind a stack of crates, getting all caught up in her skirts. She saw three men race from the alley, weapons glinting, all of them looking around for the cause of the noise, before dizziness engulfed her and everything went black.

**_A/N: Tada! I managed a longer chapter. Aren't you all proud? …no? Damn, I knew I shouldn't have left two months before I updated. I'm so sorry that this took so long. I didn't mean for it to happen, it's just that Conscience had no actual plot, so I've been wracking my brain trying to think of one. I'd be really grateful if people emailed me with ideas, or just emailed me for the hell of it. Erm, I can't remember who, and I'm too lazy to look, mentioned how formal the speech was. I have a reason for this. It's because I want to define the difference between when they're acting and when they're being good old Joren and Kel. Anyway, I really wanted to do individual thanks for this chapter because everybody was so wonderful, but I'll have to leave it for next chapter. Also, since I have a tendency not to update, I was wondering, would people like me to email them with updates? If so then please just leave an email address with your review, I'll be happy to email you all. I'm not sure why I wrote the accents in, I don't usually and I actually hate doing it. But there's always a first. ^_^ Last few things, everybody go read my livejournal and leave lots and lots of comments. The web address is  sometimes I take awhile to update that as well, but still, it puts me in the mood to write if people leave comments, (hint hint). Um, what else…oh! Go read 'No Regrets: The First Chronicle' by punkpixie87 and visit her website at  . There you go Sara, some free publicity, ^_^ _**

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**_Favourite People of the Chapter _**

**_1.Stunt_****_ Cat, for betaing this chapter._**

**_2. opal-dragon, sorry I didn't wait for your editing, but I found I was so impatient that  I had to update right now._**

**_3. Angel Yuy- I did try to send the chapter to you but it said your space was full._**

**_4.punkpixie87_****_, just because your you._**

**_5. Angel of Storms, you managed to make me feel SO guilty for not updating sooner, after I read your review I had to go and write for half an hour._**

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**_Thank you to everybody else as well, I really will do thanks next chapter, so don't forget to review!_**

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**_Until next time!_**

**_Adrienne_**


	9. Drunkards, Jewellery and Stick Fighting?

**_Note to Betas: I'm sorry I didn't send this chapter to you, I was just desperate to get it out, send me an email if you're still interested in beta-ing, because it has been a long time since I last spoke to you, which is entirely my own fault._**

Conscience

_            "Will you do me the__ honour of being my wife?"_

            Joren could barely keep the smug smile of his face. _'That was pretty damn impressive._' He eyed Kel, the expression on her face made his skin prickle, she looked mischievous. Keladry of Mindelan, the stoic, practical minded lady squire looked positively _impish. It was hard not to notice the flash in her usually emotionless hazel eyes and the dimple in her cheek. She looked so…alive and young._

            Warm hands grasping his, brought him back to reality. He realised she was talking, "-father would disown you, and the close relation you once had with him would be destroyed. In time you would grow to hate me for it, and the pain that would cause me would be to great a burden to bear." She spun away from him and he knew it was his turn to reply. Absently answering Kel's speech with one of his own, Joren continued his observations. Actually, now he looked twice, she was nothing special. Her hair was an ordinary brown, those eyes were just as emotionless as ever and the dusting of freckles across her nose was incredibly unattractive. No, definitely nothing stunning. _'Then why did you bother looking twice?' Remarked the nasty, logical part of his brain. Kel was speaking again, his eyes widened in surprised. That girl was really eloquent, perhaps a bit too flowery, but still, her speech was impressive._

            As she drew her speech to a close, he found the brunette pressed close to him, arms around his chest. In the silence that ensued he prayed that nobody could hear the loud thumping of his heart, this was a pivotal moment in this whole façade. Joren breathed out deeply when the crushing silence was lifted and Kel pulled away from him. He watched as everybody swarmed around them, giving congratulations and demanding that a celebration be held. Despite his protests, the piano was dusted down and some poor unfortunate youth was pulled into playing. The room filled with the stench of ale, and the sound of thumping feet swirled round Joren's head as the people began dancing.

            Soon, he wasn't quite sure how, he found himself dancing with Kel, before either could say much he was whisked away by another women and another and then another until his focus blurred and the faces became one big mush. Stumbling slightly, Joren staggered to the edge of the room. Regardless of the fact that he hadn't drunk anything, Joren found that the world was spinning, the constant dancing and the overpowering scent of alcohol had confused his mind. Closing his eyes, the dizzy blond waited for a few seconds before opening them a crack, the world wasn't spinning, sighing with relief, he opened them fully and looked round the room.

            His eyes flashed when he caught sight of the Lump flirting with somebody. A feeling of slight panic rose in his stomach when he saw the man gently brush her cheek, she couldn't ruin the entire thing, not now.  The squire hurried over to Kel, whisking her into his arms he swooped off towards the corridor.

            The sounds of laughter and voices was dimmed in the cool, dark of the corridor. Joren pushed Kel up against the wall, trapping her with is arms. Kel looked at him with over-bright eyes, "What're you doing?" She murmured drowsily.

            "More to the point, what were _you_ doing?" Joren hissed at Kel, his eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched.

            "Having fun, is there anything wrong with that?"

"If it jeopardizes the mission, then yes, something is wrong with it."

"How is talking to somebody endangering the 'mission'?"

"_Talking? More like shameless flirting.__ Engaged women don't flirt with other men, unless they're sluts." Kel pouted, "But I got so lonely." She pushed herself up against Joren, gently sifting his hair through her fingers, apparently she hadn't caught the barb he'd thrown at her. "Won't you keep me company?" _

Before Joren could utter another word, Kel pulled his mouth to hers. He allowed himself to ease into the kiss, pushing her hard against the wall, bringing a hand down to rest possessively on her waist. Moaning, Kel returned his attentions eagerly, gently trailing her hand up his chest and slipping it behind his neck. Frowning, Joren jerked away. When had Kel become seductress? It wasn't right. But Kel was persistent and very hard to resist, with her hair slightly mussed, her cheeks flushed and her lips swollen, as he leaned in to kiss her again, something inside rebelled, he didn't _want_ to kiss her when she was like this. From the bar he heard the shuffling of feet coming towards the corridor.

One of Joren's worst fears was losing his reputation, and being found in a compromising position would certainly be bad, and having a girl pushed up against a wall with her skirt half way up her leg and her sleeve half way down her arm definitely counted as compromising. Slightly unsure of what to do Joren raised his voice, "Come my love, you're dead on your feet, to bed with you." Scooping Kel into his arms, he bolted up the stairs and straight to their room. 

After setting Kel on her feet, Joren sat on the bed and removed his tunic and shirt. There was a loud thunk from next to him, turning his head he found Kel sprawled on the floor. "Oh great," he muttered, the sarcasm evident in his voice. The beautiful squire stalked over to the heap on the floor and roughly dragged her onto the bed. As he let her fall against the pillow with a soft thud, he emitted a low growl. The sleeping girl had effectively sprawled herself diagonally across the entire bed. Sighing wearily, Joren poked the prone figure. "Hey, Yamani Lump, feel like moving?" Exasperated, if not surprised, when he got no response, Joren came to the conclusion that Kel was well and truly dead to the world. "Mithros, how much alcohol did she actually have?" When none of his insults, prodding and jumping around waving his arms like a lunatic roused her, he resorted to his favourite option, brute force.

            Grunting slight from the effort, Joren attempted to roll her to one side. When that failed he tried to pull her to one side, which was just as ineffective. Whimpering, Joren sat on the tiny corner of the bed which was taken over my Kel, "Will you please move?" He begged, gently shoving at her. To his annoyance, she didn't. In a last act of desperation, Joren grabbed her arms and pulled her to one side. As he wiped the hair from his eyes, he gazed in awe at the entire side of the bed now uncovered. In one rare moment of kindness, he wrestled her out of the dress, so that she didn't shift about all night and keep him awake. Sighing, Joren crawled over Kel to his side of the bed and collapsed in an exhausted sleep, one hand still trailing across her stomach. 

The first thing Joren noticed when he woke was the absence of the usual warm body beside him. Hearing the murmur of voices at the door, he propped himself up on his elbows. As Kel shut the door and turned, automatically making eye contact with him, using the opportunity Joren smirked and allowed his eyes to wander, she looked terrible.

            His sleep encrusted mind barely registered what Kel said, something about a seamstress and a dress…her wedding dress? Joren suppressed a shudder, the thought of marrying Kel just didn't bear thinking about.

Silently, he slipped out of the bed and padded over to Kel, watching with quiet patience until she had finished dressing. Gently he pulled her to his chest, making some lewd suggestion about her in dresses…or out of them.

"Cut the crap, Joren. Stop screwing with my mind and leave me alone." Kel muttered, Joren marveled at the control present in her voice. Spinning her round, and looking into her eyes, Joren saw instantly that now wasn't the time for mind games. Abruptly, he broke away, and walked over to the window, feeling Kel's eyes burn into the back of him. He felt her gaze shift away from him and heard the click of the door shutting.  He was angry, angry at her for existing, angry at her for leaving but most of all angry at her for turning his life upside down.

Trying to calm down and conceal his emotions,  Joren did 'a Kel' and put on a calm façade. Failing miserable he slammed his fist into the wall. _'Why did this have to happen to me?' _Running his hand through his unkempt hair, the troubled squire sighed resignedly. As he dressed, Joren tried to talk himself into a calmer frame of mind.  _'What I need, is a really stiff drink.'  Glancing in the mirror before he left, Joren stopped dead in his tracks. For the first time in his life, Joren of Stone Mountain looked miserable. "And engaged men don't look miserable," he muttered before proceeding to spend five minutes in front of the mirror, forcing his face into a believable smile._

When finally he had fixed his features into a cheerful expression, Joren strode hastily downstairs. Thankfully, it appeared he had overslept, meaning very few people were in the main room. Relieved, the young squire sat on the nearest bar stool. On either side of him sat two drunken loafs. Neither looked up to much conversation, so Joren left them alone in their drunken stupor.

Calling for a bar maid, Joren ordered the strongest alcohol available. Taking a sip, he wrinkled his nose in displeasure at the unrefined taste. The aristocratic youth was use to nothing worse than the finest Yamani wine. Grimacing, he closed his eyes and took a swig from the mug. Joren gasped and wiped his watering eyes before venturing to finish the rest of the drink in one gulp. Slamming the tankard down, he called for another, and managed to down this one much faster. Blinking slowly,  Joren attempted to place the mellow fuzzy feeling beginning to creep into his head. Judging by the other men, this was by no means, 'smashed'  but he was not quite sober.

In fact, he rather liked this state. Nothing seemed so bad, the world appeared fuzzy round the edges, there were no sharp, harsh lines in this reality. Relaxing, Joren listened to the chatter between the occupants of the room. Most talked about trivial matters, like the roads and tax increases. However, near the corner of the room sat two men, having a loud conversation. They appeared to be debating about which jewelers was the best in town. From what he could gather, only two shops were in business. Apparently jewelry wasn't a main trade in Jakan.

Curious, Joren walked over to their table. He waited quietly until they noticed his presence. When both had stopped talking, Joren introduced himself. "Excuse me, I'm Joren of Stone Mountain. I know you've never met me and that it's none of my business but I'm interested in what you're speaking about." The man on the left scratched his head.

"You're the man who's marryin' that young brunette, aren't ye?" His face lit up with a smile when a thought struck him. "I expect you'll be wantin' a nice bit o' jewellery to celebrate the engagement."

Joren faltered briefly, "Er, yes, yes I am. She's so precious to me, nothing but the brightest gem will do." He laughed uneasily as he avoided eye contact. _'That was convincing' _The little sarcastic voice in his mind whispered. _You really handled that situation well.' _Fortunately, both men appeared to be completely blind to Joren's terrible acting.

The second man, a short guy with a ferret look about hi, gestured to a seat. Both waited for Joren to sit before launching into a long tirade about which shop was better. As the argument picked up again, both men got more and more frustrated, until finally, the man who had spoken first slammed his chair back and stormed from the room. When he was out of sight, the ferret man leaned forward. "Go to the one on the west side of town, business has been booming there recently, plenty of variety." Winking, the man left grinning about his victory. 

Joren ran his hand through his hair again, it was quickly becoming a habit, and glanced at the bar. He had a choice, blissful ignorance and a hangover afterwards or a visit to a jewellery shop. Shuddering at the thought of anyone seeing him hung-over, Joren headed straight for the door. 

Once outside, the lethargic feeling vanished and he strode off into town, pausing occasionally to ask for directions. Every time he told somebody he was looking for a jewellery shop, they gave him a knowing smile. After the sixth person had smiled knowingly, Joren was ready to punch the living daylights out of somebody.

Muttering about stupid townsfolk, he stalked down another street and successfully missed the shop, causing him to curse loudly before doubling back.        He slammed open the door, making the shopkeeper jump. The moody blond glared at him, daring the startled man to comment on his bizarre behaviour.

"This is a jewellery shop, am I correct?" Joren drawled, his tone icy, he allowed the man to nod before continuing, "Then show me some jewellery."

The shopkeeper rolled his eyes, "What type?"

"Huh?" Joren asked, bewildered.

"What type of jewellery?" The shopkeeper drawled in a slow, patronising way.

"A necklace will be fine," snapped Joren, his cheeks a faint pink with embarrassment. He had sounded like an idiot.

Smiling wickedly, the shopkeeper brought out a tray of shimmering necklaces. Each oozing with jewels and each screaming _expensive.__ Joren gulped, this would be costly. He cast his eye over the selection in front of him. Every one was jewel encrusted and gaudy, raising his eyebrows and sneering slightly in disgust, the young man waved aide the array of necklaces. "Please tell me that you have at least one tasteful item. Show me your other necklaces." Flushing angrily, the disgruntled shop keeper pulled out a different tray. Instantly, Joren's eyes was drawn to a small pendant hidden in a corner.  It was a black opal with a vein of sapphire running through. It was spherical and surrounded by a small white-gold cage which held it tightly in place. _

Something inside told him that this was the only thing worth buying in the entire shop, but black opals were very expensive due to their magical properties. Joren cast his eye over some of the other pendants, making a few snide comments about them. It was essential that he didn't seem too keen on the opal, in case it drove the price up, idly he played with a thin gold chain round his own neck. After observing the necklaces for several more minutes, he nonchalantly picked out five necklaces, including the opal. Once he had inspected all the necklaces, he requested the shopkeeper to tell him the price. To his surprise, the opal necklace was not the most expensive. He obviously didn't have a clue about its properties. Keeping a close eye on the shopkeeper for any kind of reaction, Joren choose what was obviously the man's favourite. "I think I'll take this one," he murmured.

The shopkeeper wrung his hands, "Wouldn't you considered any other necklace? This is very expensive, maybe you'd like something else, I can assure you there are beautiful things for a cheaper price."

"Maybe I'd take that one," Joren conceded, pointing at the opal. "If it was 10 nobles less, but as it is, I'd rather pay more for something as beautiful as that other necklace."

"That's easily done, 10 nobles can be knocked off, that's definitely a bargain. Do we have a deal?"

"I suppose so. Put it in a box quickly. I can't hang around all day," snapped Joren. The man scuttled off to do the waspish squire's bidding, obviously not realising that Joren had just got the opal for virtually a 1/7 of its actual value. As the man stumbled back to him, Joren calmly pulled out the right amount of gold and placed it on the counter. "I think you'll find that this is the right amount," he said, holding out a hand for the box. Bowing, the man handing the box over to Joren and snatched the money up.

Nodding curtly, Joren left the shop, leaving the man alone to mutter about the 'stupid nobility who have worse manners than a pig.'  He had been in the shop for less than half an hour, but it had taken him a long time to actually get there. Feeling decidedly pleased with himself, Joren set off at a leisurely pace, breathing in the clean air and listening to the shrieking of children playing. His mood was ruined however when he saw two little girls running done the road, brandishing sticks, yelling at a tiny boy to, "come back, you cur! And meet your fate at the hands of Alanna of Trebond and Olau and Keladry of Mindelan." Why did nobody ever pretend they were him? Planning on skirting round the children, Joren crossed to the other side of the street, but to no avail. The little boy was looking desperately for cover, and Joren was it. Darted behind Joren, the tiny child wrapped his arms round the blond's legs and refused to let go.

"Excuse me," began the irritated Joren, but he didn't get to finish, the tiny boy looked up at him with enormous brown eyes, tears beginning to brim.

"Don't make me go back there, mister. They'll hit me with their sticks again. I don't like it when they do that, I get all black and blue. Mama says that they're only playing, I say that they're mean." Rolling his eyes, Joren bent over and detached the little boy. Then, he knelt down so that he was facing the child.

"You're going to let yourself be beaten by a girl? Come on, stop crying, get a stick of your own and fight back," he talked in a direct way to the little boy, with a stern edge to it.

"But I can't fight, I jus' get my fingers hit," said the brown haired child, a sulky pout appearing on his face.

"Well that's not my problem," growled Joren, as he stood up and began to walk off. He got an entire metre before the thin, plaintive wails of the boy started. Sighing, Joren turned round and walked back. "What is it?"

The boy snivelled miserably, his wails dying to soft hiccup sobs. "I don't have anyone to play with, they jus' hit me. Pwease, mister, won't you just play stick fights with me?"

Joren couldn't keep the despairing look off his face, _'Stick fights? Mithros have mercy on me.'_  The boy looked dangerously close to tears again. "Alright, alright! I'll play your stupid game," Joren threw his hands up in surrender.  A smile lit up the little boy's face, taking Joren by the hand he led him up the street, babbling happily about everything.

"My name's Aidan, what's yours?"

"Joren."

"Joren…that's a funny name. I like it, I have a cat called Rikku, she's ginger and I love cuddling her…" Joren just tuned out after that, he had no desire to listen to some foolish little boy talk about pointless things like cats. Suddenly a stick was thrust into Joren's hand. "We have to play now." 

Moaning, Joren took the offered stick and moved into a side stance, the little boy giggled and hit Joren in the shins with his stick. "OW! Mithros, that _hurt." Aidan's bottom lip trembled again. Refusing to listen to some evil little child crying, Joren decided to help the boy. Gently he positioned Aidan's feet correctly and then proceeded to talk him through a series of simple moves, a few blocks and thrusts. Gradually, after more shin hitting, Aidan began to get some of the moves right._

Relieved that Aidan would no longer be hitting him in the shins, Joren agreed to have one last match. As the tiny child thrust viciously at his stick, Joren forgot all plans of letting the child win. Joren easily parried every clumsy blow, allowing Aidan to get some practice in before flicking his own stick to send the Aidan's stick flying. Aidan's usually tear filled eyes lit up with awe. "Wow, mister Joren, you're the bestest I've ever seen." Joren smiled condescendingly. _'I'm probably the only one you've seen.' _

"Nice meeting you, Aidan," he replied coolly, before walking off down the road. Unfortunately, Aidan didn't look like he was going to just let him go as he skipped along beside Joren.

"Will I see you again, mister Joren?"

"No."

"Next Monday?"

"_No_." 

"Tomorrow?"

"Look, kid, I said no."

"B-b-but why not?"

"Because I have better things to do then play with annoying little children."

"What does annoying mean?"

"A pain in the arse."

"What does a pain in the ar –" 

"Aidan, get back here at once."

"Yes, mama," sighing, Aidan trotted back towards his mother. Stopping only once to wave at Joren, "I'll see you next week, mister Joren."

Almost screaming in frustration, Joren hurried on, back towards the inn. The 'stick fighting' had taken an entire two hours, add that onto the hour before that whole ordeal and it made a total of three hours. The afternoon was late and he was dying for a bath. Hopefully, Kel was still out which would leave him free to have one, without things…heating up. 

Once inside the inn, Joren called for a bath to be run. He walked upstairs to see if Kel was back, he sighed with relief to find their room empty. He didn't want to talk to her at the moment, granted he_ never wanted to__ talkto her, but that was besides the point. Stripping down, Joren eased himself into the newly run bath, letting the water run over his body, washing away the grime which dared to marr his perfect skin. Quietly, he washed himself, reflecting on everything that had happened recently. He allowed his eyes to slide shut and his muscles to relax, this was the side of him that nobody saw. If somebody saw him like this then they might actually believe that he was an angel. With his eyes shut, nobody could see the usual icy, hollow numbness of his startling blue eyes, melt into a lake of calm and tranquillity. Allowing himself to drift, it was only the growing numbness in his limbs as the water grew cold that brought him back to reality. _

Shivering, he rose from the bath and changed into breeches and a loose shirt. Glancing at the mark on the candle, he was surprised that Kel wasn't back yet. Curious about her absence, he went back down to the common room in search of her. Nobody in the inn had seen her and as the sky outside turned a inky blue, Joren began to get frustrated. "Where the hell is she?" He muttered as another hour went by. Then two very attractive women came over and were quite happy to distract him for a few hours by which time the inn was beginning to empty again as people drifted to bed.  Hoping that Kel would eventually turn up, Joren went back to the room and slid into bed, completely exhausted.

But as daylight flooded the room and Joren opened his eyes, Kel was still not there.

**_*Walks on without shield, as every one should pelt me with stones* I'm so sorry that I've not updated for five months. I'm very angry at myself for turning into one of those really annoying people who never actually updates, I hate people like that. But I must just remind you all that this is a hobby, I have other things that I need to do. I have enough trouble trying to do all the homework, let alone a chapter of Conscience. I offer my profuse apologise, I am trying harder to write more often. Hopefully they both stayed in character, Kel was drunk, if you hadn't gathered. And as for Joren with children, I would've written more but by that point I just wanted it finished. Also, the part with Joren just going to bed. Come on, this _is_ Joren, the one who kidnapped Lalasa and had her stashed up an enormous tower. Again, if you'd like me to email you when I update then just leave your email address, I'll add you to the list._**

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_Individualish Thanks. Although I'd be surprised if you can remember what you wrote. Sorry that not everybody has an individual thanks, but I don't want to start sounding like a broken record. Sorry if I write a reply twice for somebody, but sometimes people review with different names. _

**_Arimel, Lady Arabian Knight, anime-girl-lizzie, Violyn, hypergurl307, moongriffin, CrystallineLily, Snipe-950, Albinofrog88, christie, Sulwen of Great Smials, fallen angel, Xue Long, Destinys Secret, Zephdae, Tris, candy4me6, 0, Rose, litesea13, sportsfan,Free2BMe,Queenofilangees, Ti-Ti(you really think it's sensationally good? YAY!), silverthorn, ditzy spacecadets, silverspark, Blade Griffin (*giggles* I liked your review), Intuition (I've always thought Joren was a drama queen, *grins*), jenn, Twitch (*smiles* That was a really sweet review.), KittenFrenzy_**_   .- Thank you all so much for your reviews, I'm so glad that you like my fic so much. I'm also very sorry I took so long to update. *Puppy dog eyes* Forgive me?_

**_Anonymous_**_: I wish you'd left a name, it's easier that way. This was one of the most…beautiful reviews, thank you._

**_GhettoCapy:_**_ *Blushes* Wow. You really know how to inflate my ego, I'm glad you like my fic. K/J is definitely the best pairing, no question about it. Erm, hopefully the long wait hasn't put you off._

**_Arial:_**_ You really think my fic is one of the best you've ever read? *Giggles* That makes me feel all fuzzy. Thank you! *Giggles again.*_

**_Dog Chases Tail_**_: Hmm, maybe Joren is in love with Kel, but he's currently in serious denial ^_~.  Thanks for reviewing!_

**_Keita:_**_ *Eyes widen* Meep. That was an ominous note you left, I'm glad you didn't threaten to kill me, it gets me paranoid. Hm, do you still read my livejournal? Because if you do then comments are always welcome, it gets you cookies. *Nods ernestly.* Gah! Must stop bribing people to read journal, must get back on topic. Sorry that this took so long to appear. Thank you soooooo much for reviewing._

**_cytosine_****_:_**_ I should really review more of your fics, I think I've read them all. Gah! I'm terrible at remembering things. ^_^ Keep writing your fics and reviewing mine and we'll get along fine._

**_Huntress_**_: You think my story's special? Really? *Grins* You may just have become my new best friend. Cookies to you!_

**_FantasyWind_**_: *Grins* You're one of the people who doesn't care if I have flu if I don't update. Thanks so much for reviewing. Ingenious? You really think so? *Beams*_

**_Xanthe_**_: Joren, an overcooked biscuit? …That's just…so right. *Grin* Sorry I took so long to update. Thank you for reviewing._

**_Not so faerie L_**_: Is there much point in writing one for you? I do see you five days a week. ^_^ But it's fun, so I will. You're always one of my favourite people. And yes, Kel is a narna. ^_^_

**_PurpleSakura_**_: *Whistles innocently and tries to hide the fact it's been five months since the last update* That's even worse than two. Please don't hurt me too much, I'm only small. *Grin* Thanks for reviewing and also, who wouldn't want to think about Joren? ^_~_

**_punkpixie87/Sara_**_: Hm. That was a long review. I have only one thing to say, SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. *Giggles* You need much glomping and squooshing. *Giggles evilly* Everybody must like evil blonds, evil blonds will take over the WORLD, with me as their leader….I'll stop now. Thanks so much for constantly reminding me that I really should update. You're still a favourite person. ^_^_

**_Squire Kali_**_: Gak! Gak! The image of Joren in a skirt is just...so…tempting. Must… refrain...from… writing…about…Joren…in…skirts…. *Smiles* Thanks for reviewing so consistently, you've definitely been reviewing for ages. I'm sorry this has taken so long, I'll write something with Joren in a skirt if you'll forgive me…not that I'm seriously intrigued by that idea. *Looks shifty*_

**_Princess Alanna Cooper_**_: *Beams* Thanks for putting me on your favourites list. I'll try and update more frequently. ^_^_

**_The Blind Assassin: _**_You rock! My ego got three times bigger when I read your review. *Grins* Thanks so much for reviewing, I'm so sorry that I haven't updated. *Mutters about own incompetence.* I will get better at this. Thanks again, you wonderful, lovely person._

**_shivohnsongbreeze_****_:__ It's really hard keeping them in character so I'm glad that you think they are. Thanks a lot for reviewing. ^_^ There will be much torturing of Joren. *Sniggers at despairing Joren.*_**

**_Witchchild:_**_ *Scowls and looks amused at same time* You're completely insane, missy._

**_Orange_**_: Thanks for commenting on my livejournal. I appreciate all motivation. ^_^ You're a wonderful person for being persistent._

**_Lady Sandrilene_**_: I have actually read your fic, but I never get round to reviewing, I'm completely hopeless. Thanks for your review, I'm really sorry that I never update, I'll try harder._

**_Lady Claire_**_: Thanks for feeding my ego! I'm going to start strutting soon. ^_^ You're a lovely person for reviewing, cookies to you._

**_ME_**_: You can write a name in anyway, even if you're not signed up. I'm glad you think I've captured Kel perfectly, I do try hard. Thanks for being such a star._

**_belac_****_ cat/caleb_**_: Are you still checking every morning to see if I update? Because it must be really tiresome seeing that I never update. Cookies to you for giving me such a squishy review._

**_Keladry Sarrasri: _**_*Smile* Very poetic, hopefully this'll make up for all the times you've been disappointed with my not updating. Thanks for reviewing, I'm really grateful for it._

**_Glasen Dauthi_**_: You liked the first chapter? Hm. I was thinking maybe I'd change it, but if you think it's good then maybe I won't. I muchly appreciate your praise, you're a truly wonderful person._

**_marion_****_:__ *Laughs* I'm not too good at writing steamy, but I'll give it a shot if you want me to, but not too steamy, because it just gets icky after a certain point. ^_^_**

**_Nightshade:_**_ I tried sending you an email, but I'm not sure if it actually worked. Thanks for your ideas, it really set off a spark in my brain._

**_Catherine of chaos_**_: Are you the same person as Nightshade, I only ask because you have the same email address. Anyway, thanks for reviewing, I really appreciate it._

**_Silverhair_**_: I've only written this one fic about K/J, I'm sure you can write K/J, just try! Thanks a lot for being such a great person and reviewing._

**_Angel of Storms_**_: *Hugs* Yes, I did feel guilty. Hopefully you'll read this, otherwise I'll just feel guilty all my life. *Hugs again*_

**_SailorCheron:_**_ You're right, it is pathetic. I should update more often, and I can only offer my profuse apologies. I'm glad that you sent that second review, although the first was nicer. ^_^ Hopefully you won't hate me too much. Thanks for reviewing._

**_Garnet-Scorpion_**_: *Grins* I've conformed you? YAY! I'm so glad. I have three little words in return for you, You.seriously.rock. ^_^_

**_Em_**_: *Gobbles up offered icing sugar, cheesecake and cherries* Thank'ee. I'm sorry that I haven't updated, please find it in your heart to forgive me. *Puppy dog eyes*_

**_Shadows Flame_**_: Thanks for the compliments, you deserve many hugs and cookies for making me feel so happy. ^_^_

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**_Sorry those were rather boring, I'm exhausted and really need some sleep. Just give me a yell if I didn't include you, I'll remedy that next chapter. God I'm tired, sorry if they are loads of mistakes in here._**

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	10. Angels

Conscience 

            **_PLEASE READ THIS NOTE: You may wish to re-read the other chapters first, if you haven't already._**

It was the rain which woke her. The feeling of cool raindrops hitting her face and gently trickling down her cheek was enough to drag her groggy mind back from the lull of unconsciousness. She felt the cold next, tiny tendrils of whispery puffs of air slipping round her neck and caressing her aching chest. But it was the pain which forced her to think straight. A dull, pounding pain drilling into her skull, forcing her to focus on her memories of how she had hurt herself. She could vaguely remember diving to one side and the dizzying sensation of needle-sharp pain as her head connected solidly with the wall.

            While she had been incarcerated in her own mind, all sense of time had been suspended and it left her feeling disorientated as she had no idea how long she had been lying on the cold wet ground. All she knew was that it hadn't been raining before and that this sense of frustrating weakness and vulnerability were both new. A sharp object was digging painfully into her back. She thought briefly of turning to one side, so that the object was no longer a problem, but dismissed the idea when she calculated the amount of effort it would take. She had yet to open her eyes, let alone shift her entire body. The injured girl lay immobile for several minutes, concentrating only on breathing and the feel of water dripping on her cheeks, like tears. She listened intently to the background sounds and suddenly realised there was the noise of somebody breathing from her right side. It was slightly muffled by the rain but otherwise unmistakably breathing. A shudder ran through her at the thought of somebody watching her and she could feel her muscles tense. Biting her lip, she slowly opened her eyes and turned her head to the side. Two tawny eyes stared into her own hazel ones. Kel bit her tongue to keep from screaming.

***

            Joren tapped impatiently on the wooden surface, staring fixedly at the door behind the bar. Ellen had disappeared five minutes ago and had yet to return. He brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes and tucked it absently behind his ear. Even when somebody sat down next to him his gaze didn't waver. To any onlookers it would seem that Joren had some obsession with the door, the blond knew differently, he was simply willing Elle to appear through the door opposite, which was perfectly normal, of course.

            He had tried to pretend he didn't care, that he could just sit and wait 'til the fool turned up. He had successfully managed to convince himself for an hour before something squirmed inside him, protesting at his callousness. There was a word for this, it niggled at the back of his mind and distracted him. He thought vaguely that it began with a C….maybe.

            After his encounter with guilt, (it was the closest he could come to the word he wanted), Joren had gone in search of Ellen and had asked her where Isabelle had been going yesterday, and that if possible could he have the address. He would have smiled disarmingly if he hadn't been in such a distracted state, as it was, he'd only managed a strange, twisted leer which had obviously offended Ellen because she was certainly taking her own sweet time.

            Joren tapped impatiently on the bar again, finding it strangely satisfying to frustrate everyone within ear-range. "Are you trying to wear a hole in that counter?" The person next to him asked, his voice dry. Joren swung round, hastily covering his surprise with a scowl. His temper was fraying and some part of him was dying for a fight. The blond clenched his fist so tightly his nails left painful, crescent shaped red marks in his palms.

            "What?" The reply was terse and rude, but at least he hadn't launched himself at the man who had spoken.

            "Oh, I meant no offence, sir," the man replied amicably. "I was simply observing that you appear to be rather agitated." Joren did not feel like having this conversation.

            "How miraculous! You have eyes. I'm sure it's great news for you,  now would you care to direct them somewhere where I won't find them so offensive?" His voice was icy, but his half fumbled dismissal fell flat on its face with an almighty thunk as the man simply smiled wider than before and began talking at Joren.

            It was mindless talk, about local matters, weather and trade. Somewhere in the mists of all this drivel, Joren came to the conclusion that the man was his own personal rain cloud, determined to drench him in useless information. He rolled his eyes skyward and directed a silent question to the Gods. _'Mithros, what have I done to deserve this?'  If he hadn't known better, he would've sworn he got a snigger in return. __'Bastard.' _

            "I've heard that Grimhold mountains are passable this year. It's certainly the first time in a long time." The door swung open and the man paused to see who had come in. "Ah, Miss Ellen! I've been meaning to speak with you about my bill…"  In Joren's eyes, Ellen was an angel, a sunbeam through the clouds, a god who had deigned to smile at him…but he'd be damned if he told her as much.

            "Sunbe- er…Ellen! Do you have the address?"

            "Yes," She smiled wickedly. "But why should I give it to you?" Something flickered in Joren's eyes.

            "I need to find Isabelle quickly, Ellen," His voice was so soft that she had to strain to catch the words. "She didn't come back last night, and she could be in danger." Without hesitation, Ellen handed him the piece of paper and turned to talk to the conversational man next to Joren. She missed the smirk directed at her back.

            Joren slipped off his stool and strode quickly out the door. Once outside he headed straight for the address on the slip of paper but was slightly hampered by the fact he had to keep ducking under cover as much as possible to avoid the heavy downpour of rain. Thankfully his wanderings the other day had got him quite acquainted with the area and it didn't take him long to find the seamstress' place. He observed the place before entering, for some reason it was reminiscent of Kel: practical, tidy, blank and entirely out of place. He hated it on sight.  Just as he reached out to push open the door, it swung open and a small dumpy woman stepped out into the street. She instantly caught sight of Joren, and a scowl settled on her face. "I don't do men's clothing, so I suggest you go find a seamstress who does." Joren placed a hand on her on the woman's shoulder.

            "Wait…please. I need to talk to you…"

***

            "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you…" It was a crooning voice, slightly sinister and definitely not to be trusted.

            "Get away from me, you…you…filthy, slimy rat!" The vehement protesting filled the air.

            " A feisty one, are we? I haven't seen the likes of you in a long time, a very long time. You'll be my little treasure, a precious gem amidst all the clutter." Sounds of something or someone sliding across the floor and an ominous chuckle, replace the objections.

            "Eek! That tickles, keep your damn hands to yourself and OW! Mithros, don't _do_ that…." The indignant reply dwindled to a whimper of pain.

            "Is my little jewel in pain? Where does it hurt, precious? Let me sooth away your aches. Let me take you to my house, it's a big house, filled to the brim with expensive things, I'll give them all to you." Somebody stood up with some effort, puffing with the energy exerting from picking something heavy up.

            Kel's eyes flew up again, "What are you doing, where are you taking me?" She tried to struggle, but the fall had left her almost completely immobile, no doubt it would wear off in time, but probably not before this…thing, took her wherever it felt like.

Wearily, she sagged against her captor's shoulder and allowed herself to relax into the lull of his stride. Suddenly she caught sight of her ribbon fall silently to the ground, obviously all the jerking about the girl had done recently had worked it loose from her hair. She prayed that somebody would find it, she wouldn't let her mind linger on the fact that only one person would recognise it.

            As Kel drew steadily further away from the ribbon, she watched it grow damp and sodden from the rain. It seemed so insignificant, lying there in the road, nobody would notice it and if they did, they'd avoid it, who'd want a useless, tatty ribbon which was soiled beyond repair? The injured squire turned her head away from the receding ribbon and watched the buildings as they passed them by. 

            As she stared at them, she discovered that they were even more seedy than the ones she had discovered last night. She'd managed to blocked out the endless crooning which bubbled from the mouth of person who'd found her. Partly because it was boring, partly because it meant she'd have to think about what had happened to make this man so…deformed. His face was disfigured in ways which made her stomach turn, and his shuffling gait and twisted posture allowed her mind to rove over what could have been done to make him like that. Still, even a babbling lunatic will say some things of interest, and what he said next was certainly in that category. "We're almost there. I'm sure the others will be pleased, they'll be glad that I can finally put something into their little collection. It's been growing fast recently, ever since we moved here. They say we're looking for something special, the biggest jewel of them all." He went back to crooning insensibly and Kel went back to thinking. _'Bandits?__ It could be them…oh Mithros! Just my luck, I get knocked out, found by a disfigured lunatic, and now I'm being taken, against my will, injured, unprepared and unarmed to the headquarters of the bandits I'm suppose to be finding out about? Goddess! All I need now is for Raoul to declare his undying love for me…ugh…bad thought, BAD thought.'  Thankfully for everybody concerned, Kel's thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at a large wooden building, with 'Enter at your own peril' written above the door__. 'How did nobody notice this building? Gods, could they actually **be more conspicuous…other than wearing large labels saying 'I just stole something without anybody noticing, ask me how!' on their tunics.' The bandits had been running her ragged for the last few weeks, and they'd been here all along, she hated it when people made her look or feel stupid. As the door swung open and they walked inside, Kel plotted the untimely end of the thieves of Jakan. Granted, most of it was actually her rather insane ramblings about how they were going to pay for making her feel like an idiot, but it made her feel better and she **__had just woken up after being hit on the head, so we'll forgive her this once._

            It was gloomy inside, all the windows of the building had been boarded over and only the occasional chink of light could been seen. Where this feeble light fell, Kel could see the numerous dust particles, obviously these bandits weren't vigorous housecleaners. The air, was not only dusty, but stale and it smelled suspiciously of blood.  As her 'rescuer' continued his journey into the building she spent her time looking at everything around her. There were crates on either side, some of these were rotting and some were simply covered in a two inch layer of dust. It was when she saw several small rodents and insects scampering across the disused crates and boxes that she decided the place was really ghastly. _' "Enter at your own peril" indeed, I swear, if you didn't choke on the bad air, you'd just have your leg bitten off by a hungry rodent and end up dying of some incurable disease. Of course, this is only if you hadn't discovered 'D.I.L.O.F.I.S (Dil for short)'in the entrance and run screaming in terror, first .'_

D.I.L.O.F.I.S (Dil for short) had reached a door and was currently manoeuvring her weight so that he could open it, either that or he just wanted a chance to feel her up. _'Bastard.'_ Maybe she'd change his name to D.I.P. _'Dippy Dil? Hm, seems fitting…._' 

            The door swung open an inch and a voice floated through, "Who is it?" D.I.L.O.F.I.S (Dil for short) shuffled closer.

            "It's only me, sir, just me and my little treasure…." Dil's voice trailed off at the end as the door swung fully open.

            "Treasure? Come straight in." The man's eyes were hungry as his eyes roved over Dil attempting to spot the treasure. Then he saw Kel and his eyes faltered, "You brought a _girl_?" His voice rose as did his eyebrows. He looked at Dil incredulously, "What kind of treasure's that?"

            Despite his insanity, Dil obviously saw something in the man's eyes, because instantly he began fawning and pleading. Dil lent in to whisper in the man's ear, Kel wondered how the bandit kept from wincing. They argued heatedly for several minutes but no matter how hard Kel tried, she couldn't hear a word of it. Finally, the bandit, scowling, pulled back and allowed Dil and Kel to enter.

            The room facing Kel was larger than the first and different in almost every way. It was clean and well lit. Certain parts had been curtained off, no doubt such things as the beds and privy. The squire braced herself to receive the stench of human excrement and was surprised to find there was none. Obviously there was a mage among these people, one who could transport such things to other places. Over to the side was a small table, with about half a dozen men sitting round it. It seemed that they were gambling, as large amounts of money lay across the wooden surface and the men kept shooting each other suspicious looks…then again, they _were thieves, so perhaps the shifty looks just came with the territory._

            Several of them looked up as Dil entered, grunted a greeting and returned to whatever game they were engaged in. Only one of them looked up again when he realised that Dil wasn't alone. He raised an eyebrow and looked at the door keeper quizzically. "I don't suppose you're going to explain to us all why Tomas has a young woman slung over one shoulder, are you?" His voice was light and pleasant to listen to. Kel squinted and tried to see his face properly, he looked extremely familiar.

            "I'll explain to you all later," grunted the doorkeeper. He slid a heavy wooden bar across the door before walking over to the table and sitting down in the one vacant seat. "So, what were the stakes?" A general murmur of chatter began again as the gambling commenced again.

            D.I.L.O.F.I.S (Dil for short) placed Kel on a pile of sacks and, with one hand still holding her in place, rummaged around for awhile. Eventually he found a coil of rope and with a triumphant grin on his face, bound both Kel's feet and hands. Once he was sure that she was effectively immobile, he lumbered over to the other side of the room, where the thieves were still emerged in their entertainment. He stood to the side, just outside of the circle of light, which emanated from the lamp hanging above the table. There he stood for several minutes, wringing his hands absently and shuffling his feet like an awkward school boy.  Finally, the thief who had noticed Kel raised his head, "What do you want, Tomas?" He said, not unkindly.

            "I was wondering what you were going to do with the girl, sir…" His voice was simpering and he was obviously uneasy.

            "Currently, I'm not doing anything with the girl, nothing will be decided until Bjorn and Vlad get back. Until then, I suggest you find her something to eat and check to see if she's injured." Kel came to the conclusion that this man must be the leader, he had an air of authority about him, and his voice commanded your attention. '_Vlad?__ Bjorn? They sound like extremely Scanran names, I'll have to remember that….'  _

            Dil nodded in response and shambled over to Kel. He knelt down next to her and reached out a hand to touch her. "I'm fine, just bruised and a little dizzy," Kel forced herself to smile convincingly. Dil looked slightly startled at her outburst, but retracted his hand anyway. Without looking at her, Dil stood up again and hobbled over to what could only be their kitchen area. Kel stopped herself from feeling guilty, '_He's a creep, and I don't want him touching me, I shouldn't feel sorry for him.'  She tried to arrange herself in a more comfortable position in an attempt to distract herself but her aching bones and throbbing head forced her to desist before her goal had been reached. A shiver raced down her body as a drop of water trickled down her neck, she'd forgotten that it'd been raining outside. __'It's so cold in here, they should light a fire of something' She shivered again._

            Dil appeared next to her, again, and held out a bowl of something to her. It looked like a broth of some kind, a particularly unappetising one at that. "Er, thank you, Di-              Tomas." He beamed at her. "There's just one slight problem…I can't actually feed myself." She waved her bound hands in evidence. Dil looked crestfallen, obviously disappointed that he hadn't got it right. A couple of the other men were watching with amusement.

            "Oh no, Tomas! What are you going to do?"

            "Catastrophe, quick Tomas, shamble! Shamble to town and get help!"

The sarcasm was dripping from their words so heavily, that it could've filled a lake. Tomas, unfortunately, didn't appear to understand sarcasm and started to eagerly head towards the door. "Yes, Tomas will get help for his precious little jewel…" Just as his hand reached to take away the wooden bar, there was a loud thumping and Tomas leapt backwards in frighten.

            All the men looked at each other expectantly, many of them looking at the man who'd opened the door before. "What? Don't look at me! _I got it last time…." His voice verged on a whine as they continued to stare at him, "Oh _fine._ Slave drivers," he spat. He violently pushed his chair back and stomped over to the door, lifted the bar and peered round. A voice floated into the room, "You shouldn't expose yourself like that, fool. I could've stuck a dagger in your eye by now." The voice was familiar, it had an oily ring to it was struck a chord in Kel's memory._

            The door keeper guffawed, "Aw, come off it, Bjorn, nobody could find this place, it's top secret!" He held the door open for the man. Bjorn entered, with a pained expression on his face, he clearly didn't think much of his associates. He was tall and lean, with an ugly sneer permanently on his face. The door keeper moved to close the door again. "Hold the door open, Toran. Vlad is coming back with th –" Bjorn spotted Kel. "Who's that? Why have you brought somebody here?" The towering man spun round and looked accusingly at them all. "Which of you was it?" He started towards the table angrily.

            "Calm down, Bjorn. I have authority here, it's not up to you to ask these questions, so I suggest that you shut up and sit down."

            "I wouldn't go throwing your weight around,  Ahanu. When Vlad gets ba-" 

            "_Vlad will agree with me, as would you if you knew what was good for you. Now _sit down…_"  His voice had a dangerous edge to it, and the pleasant tone had disappeared to be replaced by a thinly concealed malevolence. Kel stared in amazement at him, '__Ahanu? I…danced with him, he's…part of this group? He** leads** this group?' _

She suppressed more shivers. '_They should really do something about a fire, it's so cold….' _

            Bjorn glared daggers at Ahanu for a full thirty seconds before growling and stalking over to one of the curtained off areas. His voice could still be heard from behind the cloth. "And by the way, you might want to give the girl a blanket, she's obviously got a fever." His voice was filled with scorn, and Kel was unsure at who it was directed. Ahanu snapped his head round to look at Kel, his eyes were filled with concern. He rose from his chair and disappeared behind a screen briefly, before returning with a woollen blanket. The thieves watched impatiently as Ahanu draped the blanket round Kel and fed her the forgotten broth.

            "I'm sorry, Isabelle. You weren't supposed to get involved, _nobody_ was suppose to get involved." He sounded genuinely apologetic and his eyes pleaded silently that she forgive him. '_It's_ _so_ _hard_ _to_ _resist_ _those damn eyes,_ _maybe I_ _could forgive him, just this once…._' She opened her mouth to speak.

            "C'mon, Ahanu, are we going to carry on playing?" Ahanu stood up again and moved towards table. Before he could sit down however, a young man strode into the room, smiling his thanks to Toran for holding open the door. Instantly, Kel could feel the energy and enthusiasm radiate off him. Two beautiful blue eyes shone with an inner fire and he appeared to find it difficult to stay in one place. His hair was the shade as Joren's. This man, however, had it cropped very close to his head and, from the way it was so tousled, kept running an impatient hand through it. _'Definitely a Scanran.'_

            Ahanu's eyes lit up, "Vlad! You're back, do you have it? Was it where we thought it was?" He practically bounced over to Vlad, he seemed to Kel, to be like a small puppy about to be taken for a walk. The man who'd asked Ahanu to get back so they could finish the game groaned.

            "Okay guys, that's all we're gonna get for awhile, just pack it up." The men grunted in response and crowded round Vlad. The noise level rose significantly and no matter how Kel strained, she couldn't make out what was being said. The noise continued for several minutes before Vlad and Ahanu emerged from the small throng, each with an arm loosely round the other's shoulders. It was clear that they were close, more like brothers than friends and they laughed easily and readily at what the other said. Vlad barely registered that Kel was even there, and a quick word from Ahanu was all that was need to silence any doubts he did have. She slipped into unconsciousness a few seconds later.

"I think we should try and get the……tonight if possible whilst……it might be the only chance…." Kel wavered in and out of consciousness. Fragments of a conversation reached her ears, but somehow it didn't register. Why was everything so _cold_? She mumbled something incomprehensible and shifted uneasily, sweat dribbling down her back. She opened an eye to survey her surrounds and locate somebody so she could ask them to put the fire out before she turned into a little pile of ash, when she opened her eyes she saw that most of them had gone to sleep or were quietly talking in corners. She placed the time at midday and her stomach rumbled its agreement. As she opened her mouth to say something and wave of nausea engulfed her. The world spun wildly before she sunk back into insensibility. 

"Okay, it's time that we……I think that we should……I want four of you to stay……the girl……don't harm…….keep alert…." She frowned in concentration. _Why_ couldn't she make her hearing work properly? More sweat was pouring down her face and she had a bad taste in her mouth, it tasted like vomit, but she couldn't remember throwing up. At some point, somebody had moved her into a more comfortable position and loosened the ropes considerably, she couldn't remember that either. Panic engulfed her, was she loosing her memory, her _mind_? She let out a whimper. Somebody moved to her side and gently soothed her head, "Don't worry……a fever……nothing serious……better soon….." Even though her mind had missed large parts of what the person had said, she still felt sufficiently calmed. Her breathing relaxed slightly and soon she'd drifted back into a restless sleep.

"Tomas……worried…..my precious…….won't talk to me……why won't she……."

"Oh no, Tomas! You'd……otherwise she might……run Tomas!.......find somebody to……."

"Yes, Tomas will…….soon find someone……don't worry gem……"

"Heh, just foolin'…….come back……Tomas? Tomas?.......I can't believe…..he's gone……"

Tomas had left the room to find help….she wasn't sure if it was good or bad….

A knock on wood. "Somebody's at the door, you should get it, Toran." Somebody stomped angrily across the room and yanked the door open.

"Wha-" Something fell to the floor with a thud.

"Toran?" Somebody spun round. "Who are you? Get ready for a journey, _sir_, it's time to meet the Black God…." A sword being drawn. A sword clashing with another. Kel's eyes flew open and she watched the scene before her, her half delirious mind trying to make sense of it all. A ray of light hit somebody's hair and shone round it like a halo, illuminating their face. Something clicked in her mind and she screamed his name once, before the fever gripped her again.

**_I'm sorry._**

_I know it's getting old, but I really am sorry. I hope you can forgive me, although I'll understand if you don't. I leave you all hanging for five months or so and then waltz in, give you another chapter, apologise vaguely and waltz off again. It's not fair of me to do so and I will understand if you wish to insert many sharp objects into random pieces of my anatomy._

_As to this chapter, I think some things might need explaining….For some reason, I feel Kel is vastly out of character and I'm not at all happy with her. Even bearing in mind the fact that she's hurt her head seriously and been left in the rain all night, I still felt that she was wrong somehow._

_Heh, hoped you liked Joren's not so subtle  random encounter with the C word._

_D.I.L.O.F.I.S: Deformed, Insane, Lackey, Of, Faintly, Irritating, Sneaks_

_D.I.P: Deformed, Insane, Pervert_

_Tomas ended up freakishly like Gollum…I'm worried…._

_I feel like something is just very strange about this chapter, if anybody could identify it I'd be very grateful._

_There are several people I would like to thank, if they still read this, please note this is not individual thanks:_

_Thanks to:_

_Sailorcheron: Who randomly reviews every so often and makes me feel guilty. Please, feel free to leave reviews like that all the time. If you leave an email address I'd quite happily email you occasionally and talk to you. (Only if you want)_

_Angel of Storms: You deserve hugs and lots of 'em. *Bundles of hugs*_

_Angel of Flames: For the offer of being beta, but I update so sporadically that you'll probably just forget who I am by the time I get a chapter to you._

_punkpixie87: For giving me so much praise. I am NOT a brat, so there! :D Love ya, tarb._

_The Gypsy: For believing so completely that Joren loves Kel, when he finally admits it, I'll dedicate the chapter to you. ^_^_

_Em: For being so clever and working out a plot point. I applaud you._

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**_Please read this note_****_: I'm going to rewrite a lot of the earlier chapters so there will be a note appearing in about a week, DO NOT BE FOOLED, it will not be a new chapter, but a lot of the older chapters will be longer, a lot longer._**

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_I'm going to have a creative journal, soon. So I'll change the link to it as soon as I have it. It'll have random creative ramblings and extracts from fics I'm writing, or some which I'm reading._

_Please review. You lot have no idea how much I cherish them all._****


	11. Screaming into Silence

Conscience

_A/N: I am a cruel and evil person who should probably be shot. Almost a year has gone past without a new chapter, although I have rewritten chapters 1-5 (67 will be done shortly). I can't really blame much on my negligence, other than real life throwing everything it can find at me. But even that isn't much of an excuse. The only thing I can possible say to you (other than falling to the ground and weeping in remorse) is that I will never abandon this fic, and it will be finished, even if I'm 20 by the time I finish it. Thank you to those who have had faith in me, I'll worship you from afar. (In case you try to hit me.) I haven't proof read this, so typos and bad sentence structuring are expected. I'll fix it when I can. Love to you all._

"I called you as soon as I could," he blurted out as soon as the Healer had shut the door. He bit his lip abruptly, to stop himself from embarrassing himself further. The Healer looked at him kindly, his calm pair of grey eyes set reassuringly on Joren's own.

"I must commend your good timing then, sir. If you had left this any longer than the case would be far more serious." Joren sighed with relief, thankful that he had reduced the amount of inconvenience to himself that an invalid would cause. "However, this does not mean that Isabelle will recover quickly. Her prolonged exposure to the elements has lead to a very severe fever, if you hadn't called me sooner, she may very well have died. It seems though, that this young girl is encouragingly robust and her recovery should be guaranteed if she is properly looked after. I've written a list of instructions out for you; they're lying on the table along with the correct medicines. But for now I must leave you in charge, I will return in three days to check on Isabelle's progress." Joren shook the man's hand and thanked him profusely on behalf of himself and his fiancé.

Once he had gone, Joren leant against the wall with a sigh. His eyes ached with exhaustion after the action of the previous night and he longed to forget the peculiar events and crawl into bed. However, his reluctance to enter the bedroom caused him to hover outside in the corridor instead. In frustration he kicked the wall, angry at her for forcing him into this situation. If he didn't know better, Joren could easily believe this had simply been her next move in their twisted game of manipulation. His cheeks flamed with the humiliation at the thought of being her _nurse maid._ He knew that if he entered that room he'd be admitting some kind of defeat, that she'd have somehow "won this round." Hesitating for only a second, Joren pushed himself from the wall and walked down the stairs, to hell with the Healer's instructions, he needed a drink.

Strolling into the common, he felt several dozen eyes rest on him. Uncomfortable with the sudden hush that had seized the room, Joren called loudly for ale, Ellen winked at him. "Right away, honey. I'll have it in two seconds," she promised ambling away from her position against the counter. Gradually the noise rose again from the silence and the room filled with quiet murmuring.

Sitting himself in a corner, Joren waited patiently for Ellen to bring his ale. To his pleasure, this process did not take long and he soon found himself drowning his sorrows in the tangy substance within his tankard. It was around his fifth round that Joren began to morosely see the resemblance between the brown liquid he was drinking and the hazel eyes which caused him so much trouble. The swirling liquid seemed to dance and glint, like those dreamer's eyes which seemed to plague his existence, he sharply banged the tankard against the table and asked for another.

* * *

Keladry dreamt; only in fits and spurts, when the fever's hold was at its weakest, but they were enough to make her crave oblivion once again. Flashes of people and snippets of conversation, all crowded together in her mind, all of them were disconnected and Kel tried in vain to connect them.

Occasionally, the colours would become so intense they seemed to burn her mind; it was in these moments that Kel felt she was closest to understanding the nature of her dreams. Everything seemed crisp and sharp; the fragments seemed more like a riddle to be solved than a nonsensical rhyme taught to children.

It was in one such moment of brilliant technicolour that Kel's attention was drawn to a startling white colour. She forced her mind to focus on the shade and could discern that it was not so much white as blond. A vague sense of recognition settled in her mind as she watched the young man turn to her, "Are you ready?" His tone was flat and his eyes hollow, he seemed so devoid of life that it made Kel shiver. "I – I'm not sure what you're really asking," was Kel's stuttered reply. He tilted his head quizzically, "When the bear and king have hunted, the laughing one shall call. Are you ready?" She nodded. "Then light the way," he continued, hold out his hand. She reached forward and grasped it, only to drop it almost instantaneously. The hand before her was withered and claw like. She hissed in surprise as the hand toppled down into a crevasse, she hurriedly moved to follow it, but the crack closed. "Now you've gone and done it, the laughing one will find us now," remarked the man dispassionately. Her knees buckled and she fell into the snow, screaming at the top of her voice, "Open!" Shouting and screaming until her voice felt raw and her knuckles were red and raw. A light touch on her shoulder caused her to spin around, the man stood before her, two tawny wings sprouting from his back. "Your ordeals are over now," he stated, a beautiful smile graced his lips. "How do you feel?" She considered his question before answering, "Empty."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? Isn't this what you meant to happen?"

"I can't remember. Will you save me a dance?"

"Yes."

He shot her a look through his lowered lashed before leaning forward and brushing his lips against her own. The touch made her shiver. With one last glance at her, the man spread his arms wide and toppled backwards, into the newly open crevasse. "I've forgotten how to fly," he murmured before falling down into the endless shadows. Keladry screamed before darkness seemed to engulf her too and her dreams returned to monochrome.

* * *

"Shouldn't he be up there? If I were getting married I'd be by her side every second," muttered one patron, obviously trying to be subtle. The fact his voice carried three tables over to where Joren sat, staring moodily into his tankard quickly dispelled that idea. The young blond barely refrained from snapping back a quick retort, aware that _she_ had already screwed up this mission enough as it was. He gripped his tankard so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

The other occupants of the room were also muttering beneath their breath at Joren's curious behaviour. The squire tipped the remainder of his drink down his throat attempting to ignore the ridiculous game of Yamani Whispers. The problem was, what they were saying was beginning to get to him. Something at the back of his mind was niggling at him. He frowned in concentration, very aware that this feeling was familiar.

His name being called from across the room roused him from his thoughts, and his eyes caught sight of Ellen, waving at him. Hesitantly, the blond rose from his seat, dragging his tankard with him. He approached Ellen cautiously, aware that the barmaid had a tendency to inquire into his business. "How can I help you, Ellen?" He inquired, politely. In fact, he would even have bowed if his head was not beginning to complain vigorously over the amount of alcohol currently swirling around Joren's system. The blonde gazed intently at him before leaning forward across the counter.

"Joren, I think it's more a case of you helping Isabelle," she began, ignoring the sharp look he sent her way. "I've not doubt that you can hear what the other customers are saying, Mithros, Isabelle can probably hear. They know very little about what has happened to her, as do I, however ignorance has never stopped the human race from talking. Whatever happened between the two of you before Isabelle caught this fever isn't important. You might be angry with each other, but there's no way you'll ever work it out if you let her become any worse."

Joren sent her a calculating look, although her intentions were good, her assumptions were wrong, it would be easy to lie. "Although I appreciate your concern, Ellen," he smiled at her winningly. "I think it's important for you to know, that although Isabelle is unwell, her condition is not critical. I have left her alone as it is possible to do so without worrying. I plan to return to her once I feel I have significantly relaxed from the exhausting night we have both endured."

Ellen looked mollified and began to apologise when a frantic scream from upstairs silenced the room. Joren knew instinctively who it was, without a backwards glance he dashed across the room and through the door. In less than ten seconds he had climbed the stairs and burst through the door into their room.

Mindelan lay in the centre of the bed, her skin pallid and her face contorted in terror and pain. Her back was arched and her fist clenched tightly to her sides. Sweat was pouring from her and drenching the sheets which she had successfully kicked off in her delirium. She screamed again and this time he could see the ripple of panic which crossed her face. Unsure of how to proceed, Joren shut the door and hurried towards her. Her pale form began to toss feverishly amongst the sheets and in a desperate attempt to calm her, Joren placed one cool hand against her cheek. He gasped softly at the intensity of the heat, the movement appeared to pacify Mindelan however, and obviously craving the refreshing coolness of his skin, Kel pressed her cheek into his hand. Watching her contorted face relax slightly, Joren noticed a minute frown pass across her face; almost as if in this catatonic state she still found his touch disgusting. He rolled his eyes in slight amusement; trust Mindelan to be the only catatonic person who still had morals.

Although her distress had dispelled for the most part, Mindelan still shifted fitfully in her sleep, seemingly struggling with some unseen force. An occasional soft cry escaped her lips and her face would crease with pain each time. Aware that he was completely clueless as to how to proceed, Joren smoothed the hair from her forehead and placed a hand there, attempting to gauge her temperature. Due to his lack of medical expertise, Joren could only conclude that she was hot. Straightening, Joren swept his eyes over the bedroom, searching for the instructions the healer had left. He caught sight of the scroll lying on the table next to three small brown packages.

Skimming over the content with his eyes, Joren discovered to his annoyance, and grudging shame, that Mindelan should never have been left alone to get into this state. Reading the instructions through more carefully, Joren concluded that his negligence would not damage her chances of recovery. Unfortunately, according to the healer's notes, allowing Mindelan to reach such a pinnacle of emotion would mean she would be prone to bouts of extreme distress throughout her recuperation period. It seemed he would have to stay trapped in this room almost as long as Mindelan.

The blond sat down on the bed besides the brunette, he rubbed his forehead and exhaled sharply, "Congratulations, Mindelan, this is by far the stupidest thing you have ever done." There was no reply from the pale figure shifting fitfully from side to side. He eyed her critically, attempting to gauge the amount of discomfort she was in before deciding although he wouldn't allow her to deteriorate he wasn't going to help her unnecessarily.

The stoic blond kicked absently at the bedside table before a soft whimper from behind him made him pause. He looked over his shoulder in confusion, refusing to believe where this fragile whimper had come from. With dawning realisation he shifted around, _Mindelan_ had made that sound? Although hearing her scream in distress should have told him the depth of her illness, it was this vulnerable, childish sound which caught his attention.

He analysed her more closely. She was sweating profusely, the salty beads rolling down her temples and clinging to her night shirt. Her skin was so pale that it looked like porcelain and another gentle moan convinced him of her fragility. It seemed that even the almighty lump could only sound strong even in illness for a limited time.

Reaching out to touch her skin again, he paused, aware that this wasn't the most effective way to cool her burning skin. He cast his gaze around the room, attempting to find the bowl of water they used to wash in. Catching sight of it across the room, Joren strode over to it. To his dismay, not only was it half empty, it was also lukewarm from where it had been sitting in the sun. Clicking his tongue in irritation Joren slipped quietly from the room, remembering to leave the door ajar and padded to the top of the stairs.

He called downstairs to Ellen, hoping that she would hear him and he would not be forced to traipse down to endure those curious stares. The barmaid appeared at the bottom of the stairwell, wiping her hands on her apron before turning to gaze up at him, "What can I get you?" He asked her to bring a full bowl of cold water, nodding silently; she turned and disappeared from sight.

A few moments later, the soft whimpering emanating from the bedroom drew his attention from the stairs. Mumbling in irritation in slipped back into the room and walked over to sit on the bed next to the brunette. He grasped her hand in his own and lightly stroked along her arm. Although she still looked to be in extreme discomfort her whimpers ceased as did her endless shifting.

It was in this position that Ellen found them, the young man gently soothing his beloved fiancé. A sheet of golden hair fell across his face, obscuring any look at his face she may wished to have obtained. Quietly she placed the bowl on the table and retreated from the room. Just before she shut the door, she heard Joren murmur his thanks, it took all her willpower not to smile - she could have sworn she'd heard genuine gratitude in the aristocrat's voice.

After she had left, Joren rose once more from his position and moved to the bowl. He carefully dipped a cloth into the cool water before ringing out the excess. The squire moved back to his original position and placed the cloth on Mindelan's forehead. Methodically, he wiped her face with the cloth, occasionally returning to the bowl to wet the cloth once more.

He continued in this manner for several minutes, satisfied to see that the hot red flush on Mindelan's cheeks had dulled slightly and the sheen of sweat had been cleansed from her. Eventually, dipping the cloth once more in the water, he placed it on her forehead before returning to look at the rest of the instructions. He followed the instructions meticulously: feeding her the medicine by coaxing her mouth open and dribbling it inside, constantly checking her temperature to make sure it did not worsen, even arranging the sheets around her to minimise the discomfort.

He continued in this routine for several hours, occasionally adding in another of the Healer's instructions when necessary. The figure in the bed, although still sweating profusely, had ceased her endless shifting and moaning. In fact, it seemed that she had finally settled into a comfortable, natural sleep. Joren glanced out the window, surprised to find that darkness had fallen sometime ago and that the nightly sounds from the bar downstairs were slowly increasing in volume.

Joren suppressed a yawn, blinking sleepily. He was mildly surprised at how tired he was, in fact, it was only now, sitting on a chair next to the bed that he could begin to relax his tense muscles. He'd not realised how uptight he had been since Mindelan had begun her impromptu screaming. Now, as he watched the regular rise and fall of her chest, he felt at ease and did not stop his eyelids drooping. Before long he was not even awake to stop his body automatically shifting so that his chest and head were draped across the bed.

* * *

Joren had no idea how long he lay in undisturbed sleep before the screaming started again. Unbridled terror tempered the deafening scream and Joren jerked into wakefulness. He gazed in alarm at the writhing figure, her fingers clawed at the sheets viciously, attacking some unseen enemy. "Mindelan," he snapped. "Get a grip on yourself." She continued to scream unrestrainedly and he realised with vague irritation that soon the entire inn would be coming in to investigate. He shook her by the shoulder, hoping the motion might snap her out of her distress. He continued to shout at her for several minutes, growing more frustrated with every terrified cry that emanated from her lips.

It was then that he caught sight her open, unseeing eyes. There was a look of lost desperation in her glazed eyes, one which conveyed her dependency and vulnerability far clearer than any words could have. Without stopping to think of what he was doing, Joren pulled back the sheets and climbed into the bed next to Mindelan, pulling her resisting body close to his own. He wrapped one arm firmly round her waist and smoothed the hair from her forehead with the other. Although the perpetual movement had stopped, the panicked girl did not desist from screaming. "Mindelan, it's alright," he soothed, trying desperately to keep the irritation from his voice. "Mindelan! Mindelan!" He exclaimed angrily, the girl took no heed of his voice. "Mindelan! _Keladry__!_" The screaming seemed to falter at her name and he took the opportunity to kiss her silent. Without moving from his current position, Joren spoke again, "It's alright, Keladry. I'm not going anywhere, just don't scream anymore." A final whimper escaped her feverish body, the breath of air brushing against his lips. "Idiot girl," he murmured before drifting back to sleeping, pulling her closer has he went.

* * *

"How long has it been now?"

"Just over a week, I've heard."

"And he hasn't come out _once_?"

"To the top of the stairs sometimes, to yell down to Ellen."

"That shows devotion, that does. Such a good quality in a man. Don't think I'd have the willpower."

"Well, it's all paid off. I cornered the healer the other day; she's improved no end apparently."

"Well that's a relief; those screams were giving me the creeps."

"Caused by a high fever apparently, that's almost disappeared now. She could wake at any moment."

"Well that's good news if ever I heard it! I think we should have a celebratory drink!"

"Best suggestion I've heard all morning!"

"To Joren of Stone Mountain and his Lady Isabelle!" The three men raised their glasses which a cheer. However, before the cheer had faded from their lips, the young man they had just been talking about strode into the room, his skin pale and dark circles under his eyes.

He leant against the door frame with an arrogant smirk on his face and his cold blue eyes swept across the room in search of something. When they alighted upon Ellen he caught her eye and jerked his head slightly in a motion which clearly indicated he wished her to come over. She seemed reluctant to obey such a haughty gesture, but ventured over anyway. A whispered conversation took place between the two and a slip of paper past from one to the other, before the blond nodded once, muttered one final comment to Ellen and turned around to go back upstairs.

"Insolence is definitely not one of his better qualities."

"No doubt the stress has made him impatient."

"Oh yes, of course. We mustn't forget he hasn't had contact with other people for over a week."

"Exactly. Anyway, where were we?"

The sound of clinking glasses followed Joren up the stairs as he walked back to his rooms. He opened the door to the bedroom and slipped back inside, his eyes automatically flicking to his sleeping patient. She had yet to wake up, although the Healer had come earlier that day and informed him that the fever had dispersed and once her exhausted body had rested, she would awaken.

"I've sent the letter," he said to the silent brunette. It was a habit he'd picked up whilst her fever was still high, discovering the sound of his voice tended to keep her from panicking too much, and he had found it harder than he had thought to stop. "I told Ellen I was writing to inform parents of your condition, and that a friend of mine who would be travelling that way was staying at the inn on the outskirts of town. Hopefully that letter should be safely in the hands of Paxton by tonight; no doubt that your oaf of a knight master will try storming in here, waving his sword and exclaiming that he'll kill the rotten bastards if they touch you again." He smirked at her provocatively, although she was blind to it.

He sighed in irritation and ran a hand through his hair. "This is getting old, Mindelan." As expected there was no reply and Joren rolled his eyes before ambling over to the bed. He jerked the sheets around, in an attempt to keep the invalid comfortable; it seemed to stop the bad dreams. He looked at her calculatingly, dreams had plagued her nearly every day, and when she was "awake" her hallucinations were so bad that he often wished she would just black out again. He wondered what could possibly be affecting her so badly and why her screams were filled with such gut-wrenching terror.

A bird singing from outside distracted him from his contemplation and he wandered over to the window. He gazed wistfully at the outside world, a cool breeze brushing his face tauntingly, reminding him of his incarceration. His palms itched with agitation, he'd been cooped up here for so long that a volatile energy had built up within him and he spent endless minutes pacing the room, exercising and practising with his sword. Whenever he could bear to sit, he would read through books, researching battle techniques and weapons, desperate to keep his wandering mind occupied.

A timorous whimper caught his attention and he returned his focus to Keladry. Her expression was one of restrained fear, as if; since the fever had gone she'd regained some sort of control over her body. He brushed his fingers across her cheek and the whimpering faded until she breathed easily once more. "Come on, Mindelan. Surely the reality can't be as bad as what's in your head…even if I'm in it." He closed his eyes, feeling that somehow, saying this would be easier when all he saw was darkness. "It's just…I think I'd quite like you to stop this now. Before I have to go in there after you and drag you back out so we can finish what we've started." It wasn't.

_A/N: Before anybody claims Kel's illness is excessive, let me point out that she smacked her head against a wall, then lay outside in the rain and cold all night, then lay, untreated all day. Hence raging fever, (and an excuse to have Joren play nurse.) I'm afraid there are no individual thanks for this chapter, I doubt you remember what you wrote and if I did do them then I'd be here for another four hours. Know that I love you all and that emails, livejournal comments and reviews prodding me to update will always be appreciated. I have a new writing journal as well, which is linked from my profile, there should be plenty of titbits about Conscience in there (once I get it started properly) so will probably be worth checking out. Not that I'm whoring out my journal, not at all._

_Anyway, love to you all._


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